I Will Find You
by elle.writes
Summary: A series of intersecting vignettes back and forth through time documenting Heero and Duo's relationship before and after the apocalypse - including what lengths they'd go to in order to be together again. AU, 1x2x1, warnings at top.
1. 182 Days Since Last Communication

**Pairings/Warnings:** 1x2x1 with brief mention of 3xH, implied 5xC, modern day AU, angst, some foul language – I rated this "T" as there are no sexually explicit situations or very graphic imagery and although there is some reference to a suicidal mindset I don't believe it to be very graphic or trigger-y as there is no self-injury (i.e. cutting.)

**Author's Notes:** I have been writing this since July so I'm happy to finally have it done! This is what happens when you get terribly distracted and real life bowls you over with unexpected news. ;-P I will be posting these chapters Monday and Wednesday because, as you'll see, they work well in pairs. (And maybe by the time I have finished posting this, I'll have one of my hundred other WIPs complete, ha!)

As always, thanks to the lovely Miss Murdered for the beta! *hugs*

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**182 Days Since Last Communication**

At this point, the glamour of the King Gillette Mansion had worn off and the expansive rooms, grand archways, and sweeping panoramas of the Santa Monica Mountains were simply home. The mansion wasn't chosen for glamour anyway – it was chosen for its strategic location. And it could never truly be home, not until _he_ was there.

Duo fell heavily into the ornately carved wooden seats at the utterly too long dining table and sighed as he pulled on his boots, wondering if it was even worth it. Normally he didn't let himself get this down, but today – today was a rough day. Today was their anniversary.

"Almost ready Duo?" Hilde called as she hopped down the stairs and Duo looked over at her, offering a strained smile. She had to know. He didn't know how she knew, but she must've. He never talked about it, really, not any more, not after so long. Not after so much doubt.

"Yeah." He stood but waited for her to snag a bottle of water from the kitchen. "You don't have to come. I'm gonna be out there a while today."

Hilde shrugged. "Trowa and Wufei are going out to the hospital in Santa Clarita and I've had enough of hospitals."

Duo nodded sympathetically, grabbing one of the rifles by the front door out of habit, not that he'd needed one in a damn long time. Even the scavenger animals tended to stay out of the cities now, everything available already picked clean. The most dangerous part of the trip would be the first four miles out to 101.

"And Cathy?"

"Guess it's laundry day."

Duo chuckled. It amused him that she tried so hard for normalcy, but he supposed that eventually they would have to find further and further malls to raid and the pile of dirty clothes would build to astronomical dimensions over the years until it blocked out the view of the mountain vista beyond the ranch... But then Duo sure as hell wasn't helping with that task.

They hopped into the Jeep in companionable silence as they made the trek from the ranch back to the city, the familiar desolation barely registering as he drove along a path he could follow blind.

Unlike in so many post-apocalypse movies, no one had tried to escape at the final moment, they were all too damn sick, and the highways were veritably empty, devoid of all vehicles, so he could drive as fast as he damn well pleased. Hilde always liked that – the fast driving, the empty road – and for a minute he appreciated that she'd come with him. For a minute he appreciated that she'd found him at all.

The stench wafting off the city was always disconcerting, although they'd become accustomed to it over time. At least as accustomed as you could be to approaching a practical graveyard of nearly four million rotting corpses. He remembered the vultures that descended in the weeks immediately after – some days so thick that the sky seemed black – but there was none of that now. Anything accessible had been consumed and the great majority of bodies were trapped behind locked doors that Duo didn't have the presence of mind to penetrate... but the smell did.

There was no fear of contagion, no concern – they'd survived this long, one way or another, and the dead weren't going to claim them. Besides, the apartment was safe. It even offered a relatively pleasant smell after Duo, in a fit of isolated panic less than a month after the incident, broke in to all neighboring apartments and dragged dead tenants from their rooms, dumping them unceremoniously out of windows for the birds to pick at.

They parked and hopped out, Duo appraising the building with a careful eye for anything amiss. He'd cleared bones from the sidewalk, trimmed back hedges, kept the place looking just as it had the last time _he_ had seen it, as if such diligence could act like a beacon in the dark. He just caught the tail end of Hilde's eye roll – but then they'd had this conversation before. She didn't understand. She would never understand.

Together they ascended the stairs and Duo reached down under the mat to gather the key. The door was always locked, just as it should be, just as _he_ would want it. The numbers 211 shined brightly down at him and he caressed them with his fingertips for a minute, remembering the first time he'd crossed this threshold. It was their two year anniversary then, too, and they blew up an air mattress and ate Chinese out of little cardboard boxes on the floor and got drunk on champagne and christened the place by fucking right there on the carpet. Duo remembered the rug burns on his back fondly.

Hilde flopped down on the couch next to him and they stared out at the balcony in silence – a silence that seemed especially oppressive today of all days when he was forced to remember all the laughter that had echoed off those walls. He used to try to fill that kind of silence with a litany of words or at least with a joke but not any more. There was so little to say now. And Hilde knew all there was to know about him. At least, she knew everything he was comfortable telling. Sure wasn't going to tell her about the lusty anniversary sex that took place right under her feet so many years ago.

"I'm pregnant."

Duo blinked and turned wide eyes to her, sure he'd heard wrong. Not even in his wildest dreams would he have ever imagined those words would leave her lips.

"Come again?"

She turned her eyes away, looked down at her hands, which she twisted nervously, fingers locking and unlocking.

"I'm pregnant, Duo."

"Well, fuck me." He stared forward again, unsure exactly what else he could say, feeling his body decompress into the couch. "Tro's?"

"Well, yeah," she snapped and he held up his hands in defense, looking back at her once more.

"Sorry, dumb question."

"Right," she shot back tersely, "Cathy wouldn't let me near Wufei and one of the first damn things you ever told me was you weren't gonna fuck me so who else's would it be?"

Duo felt suitably contrite and apologized. She sighed and curled her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

"You scared?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm scared."

Duo scooted closer to her and threw an arm over her shoulders, dragging her towards him in a hug he hoped was at least somewhat comforting.

"Don't go thinkin' it was an accident," she muttered. "I want this baby."

Duo looked at her and she looked up at him, their faces close, and he could see she was being sincere.

"Well, you know, we'll get you what you need. Cathy was a vet, yeah? And we'll find some

books and shit about giving birth and it'll be good. You can do this."

She nodded, seeming to take a little bit of comfort from his words as she lay her head on her knees and stared at him, really seeming to study him, his eyes.

"Trowa's gonna die, you know?"

"Fuck no," Duo disagreed instantly, shaking his head, but she scowled. "We've got insulin, we'll just go to hospitals further out, we can get the gas, we –"

"Duo," she interrupted, "be realistic. We're lucky it works well enough without proper refrigeration. Eventually it'll expire. And maybe it'll still work for a few more years, but how many? One day, it won't work. And he'll die. Not today, not tomorrow, but one day. And I just thought, you know, maybe if we had a baby, he... fuck, I don't know, like he'd still be there or he'd be happy or something, you know?"

Her voice cracked and Duo pulled her in against his ribs and kissed her temple. She scrubbed at her eyes roughly. He wanted to tell her that when Heero returned they'd have power again, that he'd set them up solar panels and wind turbines and get them hooked up to the ranch and they could have refrigeration again. They could salvage some insulin then. But he knew it was pointless – she would only get more upset.

"You're lucky you can pretend he's still alive. You don't have to watch him die."

Duo bit his tongue and fought not to push her away as anger rose swiftly from his gut at her callous words. Heero wasn't fucking dead.

Hilde didn't apologize but she never apologized when it came to Heero and Duo's faith in his return. She made it clear what her opinion was right from the start but she didn't know him and she didn't understand. If Heero said he'd find him then he would. That's all there was to it.

She was upset, Duo reminded himself. She was pregnant. She was scared. He had his share of doubt and fear and heartache and he had to remain sympathetic.

"Did you tell him yet?"

She nodded and wiped her eyes again. He could hear her breath hitching.

"He was excited," she murmured. "Said he'd bring me back some prenatal vitamins."

There was a weird pause and then they both laughed. Of all things to worry about. But her laughter almost immediately turned to sobs and that set off a state of panic in Duo.

"Hey – hey now! That's good! We can get you all kinds of pregnancy stuff, yeah?" Duo offered quickly, hoping to find some way to calm her down. "We can go raid the baby shit at Target and get everything you want! And get you some of those books about babies or whatever and –"

"But what if the baby dies too?" she asked through the tears.

"No, no, no that won't happen," Duo assured her as she tried valiantly to get her emotions under control. "You and Tro' were both immune, right? The baby will have that immunity, too."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I just..." She held her breath a moment before letting it out shakily, dragging in on a sob and trying to let it go. "I just wish my mom were here. Or something. I don't know."

"Well you got Tro' an' me an' Cathy of course, you know she's gonna be stoked, and even Wufei – I'm sure he'll protect that baby like it was his own flesh and blood." She was able to chuckle a little then. He didn't add what he was thinking, which is that when Heero got here he'd watch over it too because Heero was like that – always cared so damn much about innocent things.

Fuck but he wished he were here already. He missed him. It wasn't so bad any more, really, not like at the beginning when he was so painfully, utterly, heartbreakingly alone. Not like when he was just really fucking pissed. Not like when his emotions went from agonizing to cold impassivity, where he went through the motions of every day simply because he had to, simply because he didn't know what else to do. No, at this point, they had morphed into a dull ache that was constantly there but with which he could live comfortably, like a weight on his heart he carried with him always.

Exhausted from crying and the early stages of pregnancy, Hilde eventually fell asleep, curled up against the armrest. Duo stood, careful not to wake her, and walked into the bedroom, laying down on their bed. The sheets had long since lost the smell of him but Duo didn't care, he could imagine it as he tucked Heero's pillow up under his head. It was comforting, anyway, as he took out a pen and the little notebook from the bedside table. It had been a while since he'd had anything to say, but Hilde's pregnancy was definitely noteworthy.

He started his message the way he always did.

_It's been 182 days Heero. I miss you._


	2. 1608 Days Until Last Communication

**1608 Days Until Last Communication**

Heero stared at himself in the floor to ceiling gym mirror, appraising every inch of his body, from his soft face with sweeping bangs to his broad shoulders and steadily hardening chest, to his trim waist with abdominal definition hidden beneath a baggy shirt, a perfect picture of objective attractiveness. But then his eyes continued downward to one muscular calf and one steel rod, a pathetic prosthetic intentionally outdated due to his own stubborn tenacity. It normally didn't bother him – the accident, the peg leg – but now...

Duo never said anything about it, never treated him as less than equal, never acted as if he wouldn't be capable of any workout. But then, he was probably just assigned to Duo as Duo was likely the most politically correct trainer the gym had. Despite being surrounded by attractive people daily, Duo's eyes never wandered, Duo was just the right amount of friendly with everyone, and surely, Duo could have anyone he wanted and would never and had never looked twice at him.

This stupid attraction was getting out of hand. He'd just wanted to stay in shape, rebuild his muscle mass, and Duo was helping him do that. He didn't come here looking for a relationship and besides, he didn't really know what kind of relationship he could even offer someone – working for the NSA, traveling around the world, putting himself in dangerous situations. Life threatening situations. Or at least, limb threatening situations.

He was tempted to grimace at his own cynical joke but instead he decided he'd spent enough time on vanity and wandered out to meet Duo for their routine workout. And Duo was waiting as usual by the bench press, offering a friendly wave and a kind smile, just as he always did. Heero wished it didn't make him feel anything. He didn't understand why Duo had a power over him that no one else did. It wasn't fair. He just wanted to go on not caring about anyone the way he always had. Especially when it was clear no one was going to care about him. Not like this.

"Hey man! How are you?"

"Fine," Heero muttered as he sat down on the bench. No matter how cold he managed to be, Duo was completely unfazed, and his smile never faltered.

"You're going out of town next week, right?"

To some degree it bothered him that his personal gym trainer knew his schedule so well but then at the same time it tweaked a little part of his heart that someone knew it. Made him feel like someone cared about him. It was a weird feeling, something he'd never felt before as no one ever really had, and yet... He blamed that feeling entirely for the predicament he was in.

"Yes," he confirmed and Duo smiled as he started stacking weights on the bar.

"Cool. Me too. Got one of my survival training seminars next week so I was gonna warn ya but then I remembered you'd be gone anyway, so..." he shrugged and stepped behind the bar to spot him. "One set of ten then I'll up it, huh?"

Heero nodded and gripped the bar with his hands, feeling the weight. Duo was good about starting him easy then building him to his max. He really was a great trainer. Heero felt lucky to have him.

"You should come sometime," Duo winked when he'd finished his set and he exchanged some weights. Heero blinked, confused for a minute about what he was talking about. His wayward hormones helpfully supplied that he'd 'come' any time but quickly he perished the thought, sure that Duo didn't have the same perverse sense of humor he did.

"I mean, to one of my seminars," he clarified and Heero was vaguely disappointed, not liking the idea that Duo might be trying to sell him something. It didn't mesh with his idea of who Duo was, how sincere and friendly he was. But that was silly, he acknowledged, since he didn't really know Duo at all.

"I don't think so."

Duo clipped the weights into place.

"You'd be great at it," he offered, leaning on the bar, and Heero felt his irritation rise. Duo didn't act like this. He was always professional. Now he was acting ridiculous and Heero just wanted to finish this workout with the efficiency he was used to and leave.

"I doubt it."

Duo stood up off the bar. "Six reps," he announced and spotted him for six, being helpfully quiet as Heero focused on the weight. But once he was done with that set, Duo was back to talking.

"I don't think there's anything you'd be bad at."

Heero bit back any number of retorts, as he didn't really want to let Duo know just what an asshole he really was and lose him as a trainer. But then, if he was going to act so unprofessional as to try and sell him on products not even offered by the gym during his session maybe he had misjudged him completely and in that case maybe he wasn't the right trainer for him.

"I don't have an interest in survival training."

Duo seemed almost wounded as he fixed the weights. "Oh."

He was blessedly silent for the next few routines but then Heero started to worry that he'd permanently offended the normally easygoing man. While he wracked his brain trying to think of anything he could say to correct the situation, Duo had already decided and he trapped him in the squat rack, leaning casually against the open the frame.

"Do you really not have an interest in survival training – or do you just not have an interest in me?"

Heero blinked and stared dumbfounded at the other man. What was he trying to suggest? Did he know that Heero was attracted to him? Was this some kind of fucked up test?

"Well?"

There was no way Duo could be attracted to _him_... right?

"Don't mock me," Heero finally spat out, angry that a person he respected so much would mess with him like this.

"What?" Duo's mouth hung open, incredulous. "_Me_? Mock _you_?"

Heero grunted and folded his arms over his chest, wanting to step back and away from the confrontation but unable to go anywhere pinned into the squat rack.

"Yeah," he snapped back tersely. "I can't help it if I'm attracted to you."

Frankly, it was cruel to use his attraction against him this way, to tease him like this. He was a gay man in a wrecked body – he didn't get asked out on dates, didn't get hit on. Women, sure, they tried for a pity fuck every now and then but shit if Duo thought he'd fall for that routine... It made his skin crawl and he wanted to leave, change gyms, find a different trainer, anything to avoid dealing with that bullshit.

Duo laughed shortly, eyes wide with amusement and disbelief. "You think I'm...?"

Heero just glared back, unwilling to bring himself to say the words that Duo clearly refused to say too. He was just fucking with him – Duo wasn't attracted to him. This was shit and he should just leave. Maybe he'd call when he got home and cancel his membership.

Duo sighed, seeming disappointed as he pushed himself off the squat rack. "You struck me as the kinda guy who had a bit more self-confidence."

Heero tried not to gape while his eyes followed Duo to the weights as he loaded them onto the bar. How could he turn this around on him? Duo was the one fucking with him – right? Duo was fit and smart and funny and kind. Unbelievably handsome. What would Duo even want with someone like him?

It wasn't like this was void of insecurity was a recent development in his life. His leg didn't help, obviously, but then neither did his limited experience in human relationships either. Orphaned as a boy, raised by various foster parents who could never deal with his cold and trying personality for long, was it really difficult to understand why his interpersonal skills were lacking? Why he never had a long-term relationship?

"Duo, I..."

What could he say to apologize? When Duo's eyes met his, peering up at him over the weights, he felt weak and he didn't want to embarrass himself any more than he already had but... What could he say to explain himself that wasn't absolutely pathetic?

"Well?" Duo asked again, straightening, fists on his hips. "Let's hear the whole 'woe is me, I have so much baggage' routine, hmm? Thought a guy like you would spare me that spiel."

"A guy like _me_?" Heero growled back, pissed, knowing that could only mean one thing. "A cripple? Someone used to triumphing over adversity or some bullshit? Fuck you."

Duo's brows furrowed and his eyes hardened in a way Heero'd never seen before. He didn't care. Duo deserved it. He was just so fucking sick of being treated this way, like he was special, like he was different than everyone else. It was bad enough in grade school when his test scores separated him from his peers, bad enough in his career where he outshone everyone with his technical prowess – at least he could still blend in with a crowd if he chose – but now he stood out constantly, everyone having some damned idea of who or what he was because of one steel rod.

"No," Duo spat in clear disgust, obviously offended by the implication. "A guy who knows what he wants, who clearly has his shit together, who's all no-nonsense all the time. _That_ kind of guy."

Duo stormed back to the weights, throwing them on the other end of the bar without sparing another glance for him. Heero didn't know what to say to that. He was still wary, still unsure, but then... Duo had always seemed so straightforward to him. It was difficult to imagine someone who pitied him going so far as to say all that with the kind of sincerity Duo offered.

"Ten sets."

Heero didn't move. Duo glared at him and repeated the command, but Heero still didn't move.

"Look, forget I said anything, all right?" Duo blew out a sigh, ruffling his bangs. "It was stupid, it was nothing. Unprofessional. Whatever. Just – forget it."

Heero stared at the ground in abject devastation. He'd had a chance with Duo and completely blew it. Without even realizing he was doing it. All in the name of self-preservation. Leave it to him to fuck over a perfect opportunity because he didn't believe anyone would ever be interested in him again. Fuck.

The rest of the routine was uncomfortably silent except for Duo's quick commands. But Heero didn't really mind, it gave him time to formulate his plan to correct his mistake. Because he was confident. He knew what he wanted. And he wanted Duo – or at least one date.

He showered and changed quickly, made reservations for that night from the locker room, and walked back out towards the trainer's desks with as much self-confidence as he could muster. Duo was talking to a woman trainer when he walked up who gave him a funny look but then he didn't so much as spare her a second glance, though Duo leaned back on the table, looking defeated.

"I can assign you a different trainer," he offered.

"I can pick you up at eight."

Duo's eyes narrowed, clearly confused. "Huh?"

"That new tapas place downtown, Mi Corazón, on the terrace of the Price building?"

Heero was positive about his ploy when he saw the interest flicker in his eyes, knowing Duo loved things that were new and exciting – and _everyone_ was talking about the place.

"But you have to –" Duo deflected but Heero stopped him quickly, assertively.

"I have reservations."

"How the hell did you pull that off?" Duo asked, eyebrows raised in skepticism.

"Does it matter?" Heero replied impatiently, waiting for his answer. He didn't want to have to do anything drastic like kiss him here, in front of all his coworkers – or divulge the fact that he knew the owner's wife – but if that's what it took to prove he was confident beyond his handicap and his abysmal love life then he would do what he had to do.

"Can I meet you there instead?" Duo asked after a moment, cautious but also, Heero hoped, a little optimistic.

His gut reaction was to stipulate Duo not stand him up but then he figured that looked rather lame after his blunt proposal so he squashed that worry and agreed.

"Eight-fifteen." He pinned him with a serious look. "I'm never late."

Duo smirked. "Neither am I."


	3. 125 Days Since Last Communication

**125 Days Since Last Communication**

Duo set his foot up on the metal bar across the bottom of the buggy and looked over at Hilde, assuming the same position, a wicked smirk across her face.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Set!" she answered.

"Go!" they both shouted simultaneously, taking a carefully calculated and agreed upon five forward pushes with their right feet before launching off towards the opposite end of the Wal-Mart, whooping and shouting as they flew past cash registers and center aisle displays of five dollar movies and candy and razors – meaningless reminders of a life full of materialism.

The carts came to a slow halt only feet from one another somewhere in the toiletry aisles and Duo rubbed it in that he'd won once more – although he nearly always won.

"Well, you gotta buy me a Coke or something," she demanded and he bowed gracefully.

"I'll get ya a whole store full!" he offered with a cocky grin and she punched his shoulder as Cathy and Trowa walked up with their own buggies in tow.

The brother and sister duo they found only a week ago at a rare hospital raid but their shock and disbelief at seeing other living humans had them quickly accepting Duo's offer of hospitality. They spent a week showing them the ropes at the mansion they'd appropriated a few months back and now it was time for their first supply run.

"Here's how we work this," Duo explained, leaning an elbow on the cart. "We split it up. Someone get as much toilet paper and paper towels as you can and take it out to the truck. Same for canned foods, water, and toiletries – you know, soap, shampoo, what not."

Duo had entire rooms dedicated to the stockpiling of these items. More than likely this was unnecessary paranoia – if their cars broke down they could easily appropriate others, gas was plentiful as no one else was driving, and although he knew that there must be others still alive somewhere, having only the four of them find each other after so many days meant there weren't very damn many mouths to feed.

"I'll take canned food," Hilde suggested. "It's kinda tedious."

"I can help," Trowa offered quietly and Hilde beamed at him.

"Such a gentleman!" she teased and Duo rolled his eyes, knowing exactly how Hilde would start hooking her claws into him as soon as she laid eyes on the poor guy.

"Don't forget to check the back, hey?" Duo called after them as they wandered to the food department together and she threw back a thumbs up.

"I guess I'll take toiletries?" Cathy offered and Duo gave her a warm smile.

"Sure. I'll start with water and then maybe we can work together on tp when we're done?" She nodded but Duo could tell she was nervous about his departure and he winked. "Just holler if ya need anything, okay? We'll come find ya. We're in this together now, huh?"

She nodded again, seeming a little more confident, and he sauntered off to the bottled water though he got waylaid by the clothing section where he picked up a few packages of Heero's favorite undershirts and then was immediately distracted by a display of Batman action figures fashioned after the box office hit that no one even remembered now. They were supposed to go see it when Heero returned from DC. He chuckled sadly as he ran his thumb over the picture of the actor on the cover. He was dead now – just like the rest of them.

But he picked one up and put it in the cart before loading the thing up so heavy with bottled water it was hard to push before making his way out to the parking lot. Hilde and Trowa were already loading cans into the back of one of the pick-ups when he pulled up and she glanced over at his cart, immediately frowning at him.

Duo tried to ignore her as he started loading cases of water into the other truck but she apparently had no intention of allowing him to escape her so-called reality check. She grabbed a package of shirts and held it in his face.

"Really, Duo?"

He snatched it out of her grip and held it to his chest almost like a shield as she placed her hands on her hips.

"He'll need them when he gets back," Duo defended hotly, picking up another package and holding it close too.

"Duo! You have an entire closet full of this shit for him, he doesn't need these." She grabbed the remaining packages and threw them on the ground. "He doesn't need any of this stuff because he's not coming back!"

"He's vaccinated," Duo shot back as he moved to gather the hastily discarded items into his arms as well, ignoring her attempts to claw them away.

"But it doesn't take, what, a hundred and some days to cross the United States when there's no one on the fucking roads!" She grabbed at his arms, trying unsuccessfully to pry them from the packages.

"You know how long it took us to figure out how to siphon gas that deep! What if he broke down in, I don't know, Kansas or somewhere, and had to walk?"

The replies were familiar, the fight familiar, but it still hurt that she didn't have any faith. She was his best friend in the whole world and she couldn't believe in the one thing that kept him going. The one thing that kept them all going. He wouldn't have set up any of this if it weren't for the simple fact that Heero _needed_ a home to come back to.

"Duo!" She drew his name out petulantly and stomped her feet in frustration. "You're just hurting yourself!"

He hated this part of the fight, where he had nothing left to say to her and she would start in on any number of potential scenarios in which Heero was dead and he was just holding on to a past that didn't exist. But it was different now, because a kind hand fell on his shoulder, and he looked over to see Cathy.

"Duo," she said softly, holding out her other hand to take some of the packages. He glared at her distrustfully, having only known her for a week and unsure of where her loyalties lay. "It's okay. If you think he needs these things, then we'll bring them back for him."

Hilde was obviously pissed at her interference but Duo spit his tongue out at her in a juvenile manner for getting his way and snatched up the Batman action figure before putting Heero's things in the front seat of the truck. They loaded the rest of the necessities in silence and the remainder of the supply gathering trip occurred with a minimal amount of conversation.

Cathy offered to ride with Duo back because he wanted to stop by their place and the face Hilde made clearly betrayed how she felt about making one more stop by 'that damned apartment.'

"It's okay, ya know," Duo offered after a few moments of uncomfortable silence with nothing but the stench to accompany them. "If you don't believe me, it's okay. I'm used to it. Hilde never did."

Cathy didn't speak for several long moments as she studied the landscape. But then, Duo felt her hand on his forearm once more, and she was looking at him thoughtfully.

"For four months we were convinced we were the only people still alive." The words were blunt and Duo knew the soul sucking agony of thinking you were utterly alone. "If you have reason to believe in him, then I can believe in that."

Duo felt his lower lip tremble and he bit down on it to try to force it to stop. For so long he had carried the weight of his belief alone and now, to hear it validated was nearly more than he could bear.

"She never knew him," he muttered, trying to distract himself and blink away watery eyes. "He's tenacious, resilient – he wouldn't give up. Not when he said –" But the words stopped abruptly when his voice became scratchy and he wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, Cathy's fingers tightening sympathetically on his arm.

The rest of the ride was quiet and when they got to the apartment Cathy looked up at the building cautiously.

"Can I see it?"

Duo stared for a minute, still surprised despite everything Cathy had said. Hilde hated going in there – she claimed it was a testament to his insanity.

"Sure."

They ascended the stairs together, Cathy gently appraising everything, and he pulled the key from under the mat, unlocked the door, and they walked in together. She stared for a long minute at the flawless living space, completely clean and free of dirt and dust. Duo sighed a little as he walked through the rooms, knowing not a single thing had been disturbed to indicate another human presence since his check-in yesterday.

"Not here," he confirmed and she nodded carefully.

"Not yet," she answered with a small smile and he returned the gesture.

"Yeah. Not yet."

They left and went back to the ranch together, unloading the truck carefully and Duo appraised the stockpile with satisfaction before gathering the few things he'd gotten for Heero and heading to their room. Though none of the rooms were small, he had claimed the master for them, and spent the better part of his time there transforming it into exactly what he thought Heero would want.

The shirts he put into his closet with all the other clothing he thought Heero might like that he had stockpiled over time. The action figure he removed from the packaging and set on the nightstand next to Heero's side of the bed.

Duo never much cared for Batman, thought it was stupid that he was a superhero who had no true powers, but Heero always loved him. Said that he was the only superhero who had to rely on himself and his own natural ability to get himself out of trouble. Duo would smirk and retort that Batman shouldn't be getting himself into trouble if he couldn't back his shit up. Heero would kiss him and reply that Batman couldn't help but get himself into trouble when trouble looked so damn good.

Duo laid down on his side of the bed and stared across the navy blue cotton sheets – Heero hated silk so Duo got cotton even though he could've gotten him the most expensive sheets sold – and imagined Heero was there with him, less than a foot away, and all he had to do was reach out his hand and touch his face. It was hard now to remember the little details – Heero was never big on photographs and he had none that survived the EMP blast. But he could remember his eyes, hard and blue, and the way his hair fell into them and Duo would spend so much time brushing it out only to have it fall right back in again. He remembered how smooth his skin felt under his fingertips and he remembered the soft, husky tone of his voice.

There were so many things they'd said to one another over the years as they would lie in bed, side by side – but the only thing he could remember were those last words before the world went silent. And the tears he held back earlier fell down his face at an alarming rate – faster than he could ever hope to wipe them away – shamelessly saturating the pillow.

_"I will find you."_


	4. 839 Days Until Last Communication

A/N: Hey everyone I just wanted to say a quick, big "thank you!" to everyone who has been reading so far. With the holidays I have been swamped and haven't had a chance to do much PMing but I want to let you know I appreciate all my readers and smile at every review haha! ;-P Anyway, if you are celebrating anything this week, I hope you have a great holiday as well and I'll be back Monday. =)

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**839 Days Until Last Communication**

Champagne was never Heero's favorite. He was sensitive to the fizz of it. It made him wrinkle his nose in a way he found singularly unprofessional and yet there he was, standing with a tall flute of the stuff in one hand, staring out across the lawn distantly. But it was a fundraising party and they were supposed to be celebrating – not that Heero wasn't celebrating... he frankly just didn't care. He was far more interested in getting back to the hotel, throwing Duo down in the expensive bedding, stripping him piece by piece out of his Armani suit, and rolling between the sheets with him.

"Having fun?"

The soft voice surprised him and he turned his head to view the blond in a smart white suit standing next to him, leaning over the marbled balustrade. He blinked, confused as to why anyone was talking to him. He was only here at the behest of his boss – no one at this event was of any interest to him.

"I'm sorry," he replied cordially, hoping the blond wasn't someone he should know. "I don't attend many of these. Heero Yuy." They shook shortly.

"Quatre Winner," the blond returned with a smile. There was a slight pause. "You have no idea who I am."

The barest hint of a smile crossed Heero's lips at having been found out. "No idea."

Quatre chuckled and lifted his own champagne to his lips with a tiny tilt like a private toast before sipping. "I like that."

Heero took a sip of his own in reciprocation – nose wrinkling unbidden – and Quatre laughed again.

"What are you doing here, Heero Yuy?" he asked, eyes alight with amusement. "This doesn't seem like your typical soirée."

Heero sighed and turned so that he could lean back against the railing, his leg growing tired from supporting himself, and he twisted the flute in his hand.

"My boss – Milliardo Peacecraft," he raised an eyebrow to see if Quatre was familiar with the name, and the look of recognition told Heero that he was, "likes me to attend when I'm in town."

"Ah." Quatre tilted his head in a sympathetic gesture. "NSA then?"

Heero nodded as his eyes sought Duo out through the open French doors, hoping to catch a glimpse of him through the crowd, though he felt that was a little optimistic since he hadn't seen him for at least the last half hour. An unexpected wash of relief flooded through him when he noted Duo laughing with a group of older men through one of the floor-to-ceiling windows to the right.

Quatre hummed a response and they stood in mutual silence for a while, watching the swarm of politicians and the political elite from a distance. Duo was making his way slowly to the doors, visible now quite clearly, but he was stopping at every turn and talking to someone Heero couldn't even guess the name of as if they were old friends. Forgetting for a moment that he wasn't alone, he let himself smile at his partner's exuberant sociability.

"Someone special to you?" Quatre asked softly and startled Heero from his reverie. He turned his face to the other man, that amusement still evident on his face.

Heero gestured absently with a forefinger, champagne flute picking up the light and distorting it before his eyes. "My partner, the one with the braid."

"Hmm," Quatre murmured. "He's not Washington."

"No," Heero agreed. "He had some time off and agreed to come out here with me for the week." He couldn't help but laugh, a short, choked sound from the back of his throat. "Look at him – he's a personal trainer who runs survival training classes for fun and he fits in like he's come to a hundred of these." He shook his head while Quatre nodded thoughtfully.

"I don't know what he sees in me," he confessed quietly, unsure what it was about the blond that made him say it.

It wasn't something Heero had ever told anyone. Maybe it was just this week, a little test drive before he asked Duo to move in with him, which made him feel so uncertain. Maybe it was Quatre's honest façade that made him speak that uncertainty.

"It doesn't matter," Quatre said, a hint of a smile in his tone, and Heero eyed him curiously. "All that matters is that he sees you."

Heero turned his eyes quickly back to Duo, a faint blush coloring his face. And Duo was finally free of the crowd, eyes meeting his across the way, beaming as his long strides had him approaching quickly.

"I thought you abandoned me," Heero teased lightly as Duo walked up. Duo's hand brushed Heero's face as he leaned in for a quick kiss.

"I told you, I will _always_ find you," he joked back, a rough thumb stroking his cheek as Duo pulled away.

Then he turned to Quatre with an embarrassed grin. "Forgive me." He held out a hand and as it was accepted it was clear he recognized the blond as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Quatre Winner?" he asked, a bit choked, and Quatre nodded.

"And you are...?" Quatre returned curiously.

"Duo Maxwell," he stuttered a bit, nervous, and it surprised Heero as he had been schmoozing his way through throngs of politicians all night. "I'm a huge fan. Really. Huge."

Quatre chuckled and tilted back his glass casually, dismissing the praise.

"Seriously. The presidential bid – you would be a fantastic candidate. I would vote for you. I can't imagine anyone who wouldn't vote for you."

Heero stared. He supposed at some point he would've realized Duo was interested in politics, but it hit him at that moment just how invested he was.

"And why would anyone do that?" Quatre asked in an unintentionally self-deprecating manner.

Duo laughed. "Because of that right there. You're _real_ and you don't even know how real you are." Then he winked knowingly. "Plus your immigration reform proposal was fantastic and I sure don't mind your stance on gay rights..."

Quatre smiled a little but it didn't reach his eyes as he turned them to Duo, hard and cold.

"Let me give you a piece of advice Mr. Maxwell," his voice was surprisingly gentle for the gaze Quatre pinned his partner with. "All politicians at my level know exactly what they are – and if they don't, they ought to hire a better PR consultant quick."

"Well, whatever you are Mr. Winner, I like it," Duo answered with an indifferent shrug, his opinion of Quatre clearly unfazed. And then his eyes were back to Heero, taking the champagne from his hand and downing the rest of it shamelessly.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked with a look that made a shiver run down Heero's spine as he thought once more about that bed, those sheets, and just what the man standing before him would look like folded into them.

"Sure," he agreed easily, moving forward a hesitant step, stiff and awkward from standing in one position for so long. It seemed Quatre just noticed his handicap and he called his name before he walked away.

Duo paused and turned to look back at them, eyes carefully studying Heero for any discomfort, willing to rescue him from the impending conversation if he required it. But Heero gave him no indication that was necessary.

"Were you a soldier, Heero?" Quatre asked quietly and Heero shook his head, used to the question. A missing leg on a man his age generally indicated a life of service.

"Ah." He mused a moment, glanced over at Duo and back to Heero again once more. "They like to invite soldiers sometimes – really gets the pity going and the money flowing, or so they say..." Quatre seemed legitimately disappointed by that. "I find that deceptive."

"No," Heero stated curtly, though he would be angry if that was why Milliardo had been having him attend these events as often as possible. Quatre smiled a little, almost sad, and he tilted his head in Duo's direction.

"I can tell," he said so softly Heero had to strain not to miss it. "He only has eyes for you."

Once again he felt heat rise on his cheeks but Quatre was turning away, heading back to the party as he polished off his champagne.

"What'd he say?" Duo asked as Heero approached with a bit of difficulty as his muscles loosened up. But Heero didn't answer. Instead, he pressed a hand against Duo's cheek and drew him into a long, meaningful kiss. Duo's fingers stroked against the back of his hand gently as they separated and his own fingers fell to Duo's neck.

"Will you move in with me?" he asked abruptly, feeling like the words were forcing themselves out of his mouth, as if he didn't say them right then at that very moment he never would. "You know – when our leases are up, when we can get _our_ own place."

Duo paused, studying his eyes a moment before laughing loudly, evidently surprised. "Quatre Winner told you to say _that_?"

Heero's brows tilted, a bit frustrated with the lack of Duo's immediate acceptance. "No, he didn't, I – I've been wanting to ask you that for a while..."

His smile was endearing as he looped his fingers in Heero's belt to drag him a bit closer, reconnecting their lips in a chaste little kiss.

"You oughta know the answer to that 'Ro," he murmured against his mouth, the feeling of Duo's lips moving against his sending a tremor of electricity through his body. "I'd follow you anywhere."

Heero smirked, lips still on Duo's. "Right now, I only need you to follow me back to the hotel."

"Is that so?" Duo asked as he pressed into another kiss. "I don't know that I'm gonna be able to watch that ass moving in front of me without touching."

"You better," Heero replied, panting a little as he kissed him again. "Or we won't make it back to the hotel."

Duo's laughter rang out across the lawn as he smacked Heero's shoulder playfully, separating from him with a hint of longing. "It's gonna to be _that_ kinda night, huh?"

"Damn straight," Heero replied, using one of Duo's favorite phrases with a hint of a grin, causing Duo to laugh again. "You agreed to move in with me."

Duo grabbed his hand a moment, squeezing it tightly and halting them before they breached the French doors and wandered into the glitz of the party once more.

"I love you," he said openly, an honest smile turning his lips as his blue eyes gazed affectionately into Heero's own. "And if you let me, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

Heero stared, candid confusion flirting across his face. "Why would I ever say no to that?"

Duo's smile widened as his thumb rubbed the back of his hand roughly, comfortingly.

"Knew you weren't no fool, babe."

And he dropped his hand before they entered the mass of fanfare and revelry, shoulder to shoulder, determined to make it through more than just the daunting crowd before them together.


	5. 62 Days Since Last Communication

**62 Days Since Last Communication**

Duo sat on the pier and stared out over the ocean – the most expensive bottle of whiskey on the shelf held tight in his fist. He wasn't used to seeing it like this, at sunset, when the colors of the sky reflected in the ocean and the whole thing looked a damn bit like cotton candy but the beauty was lost on him.

He didn't fucking agree to this. He didn't agree to being the last person left on the face of the planet.

Quickly, he chugged back a few more swallows, the liquor making his head swim, and he remembered all the times they'd come out here together, way the fuck past midnight, just to stare at the stars and the way the moon distorted across the ocean waves and listen to the crash of the surf. Even if they had been arguing, going out there... it was like a balm and it soothed away any issues between them and they wouldn't even have to kiss, just hold each other's hand and lay back and look up.

He told himself it was the burn of the liquor, being shot down his throat so fast, that had his eyes watering – but the shit was smooth as silk and he knew it was a piss poor lie.

Maliciously his internal monologue tore at him. Why didn't he consider that Heero might be out of town when shit hit the fan? Why didn't he realize that no one else out here would be vaccinated? Why did he agree to any of this? Why did he think he would want to exist in a world where literally everyone else was dead?

At this point, his mind had stopped playing little tricks on him. It stopped with the ruffle of wind behind him sounding like a footstep, stopped with the horrifically disconcerting feeling of being watched when he knew for a fact that no one was there. Now it moved on to bigger lies. He would hear his name being called in the distance, crystal clear. Or he'd see someone's back turning a corner just as the edge of his vision.

He wasn't the kind of guy who could live alone like this. He knew it. He just couldn't. It was something they argued about a lot, actually. Duo's need for socialization. Heero's ambivalence towards parties and tendency towards jealousy in social situations. It wasn't that he didn't like to go out – Heero took him to hundreds of wonderful places, enjoying his ability to surprise and delight him. And it wasn't even that he doubted him, that he thought Duo would find someone else or cheat on him – Duo saw that now. It was just that Heero didn't give a damn about anyone but him, didn't want to talk to anyone but him, didn't want anything other than to be with him.

The thought felt like a knife between his ribs and his next few breaths were filled with agony as he tried to guzzle down some more whiskey to numb the ache.

Now Heero was dead. That was the truth of the matter, right? He bit his lip hard as the

tears came, fingers shaking on the bottle. Heero was dead. He wasn't coming, despite what he said, it'd been two damn months, he wasn't coming. Duo buried his head between his knees and he felt like he was going to be sick as he gulped in ragged breaths and his stomach churned.

Maybe he shouldn't have gone back to the damned apartment. It had been a week. He'd avoided it like the plague that wiped out every fucking person on the planet, terrified that it'd just be another god-forsaken day that Heero wouldn't be there. It was too close – too suffocating. It was everything they were wrapped up and surrounding him. It was all he had left of the man he loved.

But of course a part of him hoped. That stupid fucking part of him that just wouldn't get with the program. He hadn't seen another living, breathing human being in two fucking months – there was no way Heero was still alive. Even if he had been, after the bombs, after the infection – it didn't take two damn months to drive to LA from DC. But that dumb fuck little part of him forced him back there, back to that apartment, where everything was just as he'd left it a week ago – untouched.

It really didn't matter now. He rested his chin on his knees and wiped the tears from his eyes with the heel of his hand. Heero was dead. He had to force himself to face that fact now. Heero was dead and he wasn't coming back and Duo had to move beyond the stupid notion that he would. Had to make a decision about what he was going to do in the face of reality. Heero was dead.

Duo sat there for a few long minutes and stared, zoning out to the sound of waves pounding against the shore. When the idea came to him, he didn't flinch, didn't move – there was no indication he'd come to any conclusion at all and yet he had. Slowly he lifted the bottle to his lips, the liquor redoubling his nausea as it slid into his belly. He truly didn't feel much like drinking any more but he figured he'd better make sure he was drunk enough that he wouldn't fight it, that he wouldn't feel it when it happened.

He stood when the bottle was nearly empty, unsteady, feeling like his legs were going to give out under him. He steadied himself just before he fell flat on his face. The sky seemed to roll like the ocean and it made him dizzy as he leaned over the rail staring down at it. Fuck. But this was the best way, right?

Realizing he was still holding the bottle he threw it over the edge and watched it move along the waves, seeming to stay in place as the water shifted around it. But eventually it filled up enough to sink and disappeared beneath the undulating sheet of deep blue. He visualized his body sinking in the same way – swallowing water until he filled up just like that bottle. He supposed drowning wasn't the worst way to die – he was pretty sure he saw that when he tried not to watch everyone around him fall to the virus which caused extreme pain, agonizing full body rashes and sores, vomiting mass amounts of blood, and who knew what the fuck else internal suffering before they died.

It didn't matter. He had escaped his fate for too long now – it was time for justice to be doled out. Shaking he placed a foot on the wooden fence paneling, hoisting himself up so that he was leaning precariously over the edge. Fuck but this was a lame way to die. He wondered if Heero's death had been a bit more glorious. DC was bombed. That would've been fitting. A man like Heero deserved to go up in a great, instantaneous flash of light.

The analogy and the picture of Heero that the thought brought up burned into his retinas and brought tears to his eyes again. He placed his other foot up on the paneling, his whole body shuddering with drunken nerves. A few shallow breaths filled his lungs as he tried to settle himself before the final moment. He wondered if he'd see his life replayed before his eyes. He wondered if he'd see Heero before it all went black – similar in a way to how he heard him before the nerve-wracking silence.

"Wait! Stop!"

Duo wanted to laugh. His mind was playing tricks on him again but it was too damn late for that now. He wouldn't listen. He couldn't listen. He couldn't fucking do this anymore. He couldn't stand to be alone. Trying to remain calm, he ignored the footsteps his head filled in behind him, sick to death of this stupid game, unable to believe his mind would do this to him now, after he'd made his decision, knowing how he suffered over the past two months. It was damn near ridiculous.

But before he could get a leg up and over the railing he felt hands ripping at his shirt, pulling him off and he fell backwards heavily onto his ass, his drunken state doing him no favors as far as balance was concerned. He stared up and blinked several times, unable to accept that he could possibly be staring into a woman's face – a real life, living, breathing, human being. Part of him wanted to believe his mind was still fucking with him, but then the hands on his shoulders felt so real and she just seemed so... real.

"I'm not going to let you fucking kill yourself!"

He stared dumbly up at her, mouth moving but no sound coming out.

"Yeah, right? You're the first human I've seen since everyone died and I'm not letting you leave me here!" Her voice sounded at least as desperate as he felt and he wasn't really sure whether to laugh or cry – so a combination of sounds came out of him that he was sure would've frightened off damn near anyone a couple months ago. But as it was, he wouldn't have left her under the same circumstances, and he knew she wouldn't leave him.

"Hey, it's okay," she told him a bit more softly, leaning down and picking up his hand. "I'm pretty shocked myself to see anyone around anyway. I... I would've said something sooner but..." She shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess I was scared."

Duo was nodding uncontrollably and his other hand gripped hers so tight it must've hurt but she didn't complain.

"Hey, are you okay?" Her brows knit together as she studied him and his jerky movements and he shook his head, feeling incredibly dizzy once more despite sitting down.

"I'm really drunk," he finally admitted in a slur and her face turned from concern to anger.

"How much did you drink?"

He didn't answer, a little afraid of her but more afraid of disappointing the last person left alive with him. She shook his shoulder and he swallowed hard.

"Enough to kill you? Because I ain't fucking losing you now!" Her voice was shrill and scared and she shook him harder. "You better throw up before it hits your system because alcohol poisoning is one fucking _dumb_ way to die!"

He swallowed again, world spinning, but she wouldn't let up.

"Come on, man, throw it up! You – you can't leave me here alone again!"

Now she was begging and he didn't know what else to do. Her own panic, her wild eyes, her screech gripped him and suddenly he realized that there was another living human being right here, standing before him. He didn't have to doubt any more, didn't have to wonder, because it was possible. She was here with him and that meant – that meant that Heero could be too. Heero could still be out there right now, looking for him, and he was just too fucking weak to hold on – too damn pathetic to ride out the wait.

Shit but she was _right_! He couldn't give up now. Not when there was hope. Not when there was still fucking _hope_.

Duo drug himself to his feet, flinging his upper body unsteadily over the edge of the pier, pressing fingers desperately into his mouth to retch up the liquor that sat so heavy in his gut. He didn't need it any more. He didn't need to die. Not now – no, not ever. Not until he and Heero lived out whatever kind of life they could together because Heero had to be alive and Duo knew he was coming. He just had to wait a little bit longer – just a little fucking longer.

He slid down the fencing and stared at her again, worry creasing her face, and offered her a sorry smile despite his mouth tasting like bile and the alcohol that had already made it into his bloodstream still coursing in his veins.

"Thanks." His smile was a little goofy and forced but it was as genuine as he could manage in his current state. She folded her arms over her chest and stared him up and down, tilting her head thoughtfully as she contemplated him.

"Well, you're not too bad lookin'," she said at last, "if you're the guy I'm gonna hafta repopulate the earth with. But a little on the dumb side, I gotta say."

Duo shook his head stupidly then held a hand to his temple as the world reoriented itself.

"No," he said, smile widening for one brief glorious moment as he stared at her. His savior – in more ways than one. "You're cute an' all, but I ain't fucking you. My man is coming for me."


	6. 13 Days Until Last Communication

A/N: I just wanted to drop a quick note for anyone who may be confused about the timeline in this fic before we reach the midway point – each one of Duo's chapters is going backwards through time and each one of Heero's is going forwards. ;-P So there is no actual "present" but you'll see next week what my thinking here was. As always, thanks for reading! :D

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**13 Days Until Last Communication**

Their eyes met in an obvious battle of wills – Duo's brows drawn down in frustration, hands on his hips in an aggressive stance while Heero's arms crossed over his chest defensively, teeth grit to the point of pain.

It had been like this between them more and more lately. Duo just had to fight him about every little thing. Wouldn't listen. Wouldn't let anything go. If he would just –

"Come on. Say it," Duo growled, waiting for the repercussions, waiting for the hurtful words they were both becoming too accustomed to hearing, whether from their own lips or the lips of the man they loved.

And Heero did love him. He didn't love him any less for this, in fact, it was his love that drove them to this every time. His sick imagination, his fear, his insecurity – no, his inability to do anything meaningful to protect Duo from the inevitable.

"I'm not doing this right now," Heero muttered out, trying to be the bigger man as he headed for the door.

Unfortunately, Duo would always be faster than him and he grabbed his arm before he reached it. Heero yanked away from him, throwing himself off balance, falling backwards into the door with a slam. His eyes glared hurt from beneath his bangs, feeling particularly ineffectual in that moment as he tried to regain his balance. How could he hope to protect him when he struggled to walk? He was disgusted with himself. Essentially, he was just a cripple, and he always would be.

The way Duo's eyes widened in fear and apology only made him feel worse and he growled a little, protectively, as he turned the door handle and struggled out, slamming the door behind him and leaving Duo behind.

Cloaking himself in his own dark thoughts he wandered west, towards the coast. He'd never make it there, of course, even on a good day he was slower than Duo's casual pace and a brisk walk took a lot of exertion and mental fortitude but then he was used to it – used to being less than everyone else. And typically that didn't bother him so much. He had plenty of skill sets that placed him well above average but when it came to Duo...

He was forced to wonder if maybe there wasn't someone better for Duo out there, someone who had a better shot at keeping him safe. His heart ached but then he just loved him so much... He would do _anything_ for Duo. And if that included giving him up to someone who could take better care of him, then... Then he would do it. Heero wanted to be man enough to take proper care of him but the fact of the matter was that he just wasn't. He wasn't. He wasn't a man at all.

Eventually, he slowed to a stop, feeling uncertain, feeling like he didn't know where he was going – and not just with regards to this particular moment because physically he really didn't know where he was going. He stared up at the stars, dimmed so dramatically by light pollution, and he felt frustrated. Trapped. He was so wound up in his fears, in vague possibilities that he was letting them spill into all his interactions with Duo. He was so afraid of losing him, he really was losing him – losing him to a fantasy of events that might not even happen.

A weary sigh escaped his lips and he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. What the fuck was he thinking? He had a good thing here – he sure as fuck didn't want to ruin it over his all too vivid imagination.

Cars passed by but then it was _their_ car pulling up to the side of the road and Heero didn't bother to look over, just kept staring up like he always did. At this point, Duo understood.

Fuck, Duo understood so much about him it was sick. A little piece of him was disgusted that he brought the car, disgusted that Duo would know he was exhausted, that the walk back would be too difficult for him. He never wanted so badly to be normal again than he did at that moment.

After a few long minutes Duo got out of the car and joined him, stood beside him, staring up with him for a while. It was comforting just to have him there. And that was really the problem, wasn't it? How could he lose this – now that he had it? Now that he knew what it felt like to be loved by someone like Duo? He swallowed a lump in his throat.

"What are we doing here, 'Ro?" The question was soft, honest, and Heero bit his tongue to hold back rare and distinctly uncomfortable tears.

"The stars aren't as bright here as they are from the pier." The statement had nothing to do with the question, which had nothing to do with location, but then it didn't really matter. The silence grew between them until Duo was standing in front of him, putting a hand on his cheek, connecting them.

"I mean, what are _we_ doing?" The smile he offered was weak but organic and it made Heero's heart beat faster to see it. "We don't argue about the best way to freeze chicken. For fucks sake, this is ridiculous."

"I just..." Heero started and stopped, averted his eyes and brought them back. Duo waited patiently but there was so much he could say and none of it would help, none of it would really explain the depth of his fear that he was going to lose him.

And suddenly he was crushing Duo to his chest, burying his face in his neck and his hands in his shirt and dragging him so close he was sure he was hurting him but it was as if he just couldn't get enough of the feel of Duo on his skin, Duo's warmth pressed against his, Duo's breath against his neck. He trembled and Duo's arms came up to hold him back, fingers of one hand trailing in his hair, stroking through it, comforting him.

"I just don't ever want to lose you," he choked out so quietly he figured Duo probably wouldn't have heard him except his mouth was so close to his face. But Duo's grip tightened and Heero knew he'd heard.

"Hey," he breathed, pulling away, big hands cradling his face, forcing Heero to meet his eyes even though their close proximity made it nearly impossible. "You're never gonna lose me. Okay?" Duo smiled then and nudged his nose against Heero's. "I'm not that easy to get rid of."

He saw Duo's smile falter as Heero looked down, nuzzling his way back into his neck, not even Duo's teasing and optimism able to pierce through his depressed state.

"Is this about your last trip to DC?" Duo asked carefully as he stroked his fingers against Heero's neck, kissing his hair. Heero nodded just slightly, arms constricting further.

"Listen, 'Ro, we both got vaccinated, that's all we can do. We shouldn't even know about this shit but we do. And it's driving you crazy, I get that, but that means we already stand a far better chance than anyone else we know. And Mr. Winner is watchin' out for us. You aren't gonna lose me, babe. Ya gotta believe that." His hand stopped. He tilted Heero's head up to face his eyes again. "Okay?"

Heero just stared. Stared into his eyes like he was staring into the stars and he didn't want to lose those eyes ever. He'd never deserved Duo, not from the beginning, but having him... Having him changed his life.

"I want to grow old with you," he stated carefully, words he'd felt but was reluctant to express, even despite Duo's own repetition of them, afraid even after all their years together that he'd jinx it. But once he'd said them, words started falling out of him, tumbling, like a torrent he was unable to dam. "I want to see you every night. I want to wake up to you every morning. Every business trip is worse because... because all I want is to _be_ with you."

He paused, straightened himself, met Duo's eyes head on as he realized just what words were about to come out of his mouth. They surprised him, sure, but then, he knew in that moment that was what he really wanted. That finality. That symbolism. That commitment.

"I _love_ you." His words were pointed and direct, never more sure of himself than he was in that moment. "And I want you to marry me."

Duo's face blanked and for a moment nerves overtook Heero because he wasn't sure what that meant. But then Duo's mouth twitched, lips parting a moment and brows furrowing in confusion even as his eyes scanned Heero's, verifying what he'd said. And then his heart began beating again, and fast, as Duo drew him into a furious kiss, mumbling the word 'yes' against his lips over and over until he was breathless and they were just pressing their faces together, noses smashed, lips touching, breath mingling between them.

And then suddenly Duo was pulling away, a big grin on his face as he held Heero at arm's length, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"No."

Heero blinked, knowing he couldn't really be serious, surely, not with that look, not after saying yes through kisses that left his lips burning.

"No – I want you to do it again. With a ring. On one knee. All that," Duo specified, brushing Heero's bangs out of his eyes so that he could see them better. "I'm only gonna do this once, right?"

"You better only do this once," Heero growled, pulling him into another kiss that more accurately portrayed _his_ passion and the depth of _his_ feelings for his partner.

Duo chuckled as they parted and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand. Heero smiled a little, amazed that he could produce such a reaction in him, knowing Duo was genuinely pleased.

"It's gonna be okay, you know? We'll figure this out."

Heero nodded, stared down at their feet a moment, suddenly embarrassed by his declaration, by walking out, by arguing about chicken in the first place.

"Even if there ain't a single person left on the planet but us," Duo started, jabbing a teasing finger into his hip, causing Heero to jerk away with a laugh. "I'd choose you every time."

Every thought he had was more than he could say, nothing Duo ever wanted to hear, betrayed the fact that despite what Duo said, he knew he didn't deserve him. So he kept his mouth shut instead, studied the beautiful lines of his face, and smiled a bit sadly, knowing he could never truly express the depths of his gratitude and love without being able to make Duo understand how little he was worth, how much inequality existed in this relationship. Duo was like a meteor, burning his way through the atmosphere, and Heero... Heero just wanted him burned into his retinas.

"Let's go home," Duo suggested, tugging his hand a little as he tilted his head and smiled. "I gotta change our Facebook status to 'engaged.'"

Heero rolled his eyes at his partner. "What about the ring?"

"Oh, you're _getting_ me a ring!" he teased as they climbed into the car together. "I can't wear my Facebook status around with me."

"I'll get you a ring," Heero promised, picking up Duo's hand and kissing the knuckle of his ring finger. He would get Duo _anything_ he wanted, as long as it would make him happy.


	7. Day of Last Communication (Duo)

**Day of Last Communication**

Duo threw his duffle over his shoulder, jogging down the stairs two at a time on his way to work. He liked to walk when Heero was out of town, gave him some time to occupy his mind with something other than loneliness. Sure, he'd made plans tonight with some of the other trainers after work so he'd have something to do, but it wasn't the same as having Heero there. And recently Heero had been out of town so frequently that it was really getting him down. Honestly Duo suspected the aggressive schedule was getting to Heero as well and was a big factor in his impromptu marriage proposal. They'd been together long enough that Duo knew Heero sought out something he could hold on to tangibly when he was feeling uncertain.

Not that he would change his answer in any way regardless of why Heero asked. He never really considered marriage because it never really mattered to him – as long as he was with Heero, he was happy. So the request of a ring and a proper proposal was an attempt to buy them some time to ease into the idea more than anything – because he did want that. Wanted it more than he'd ever realized he would before being asked.

And really, Duo knew it wasn't just the traveling that had Heero nervous and needy. He glanced around, noting the stickers and flyers and posters for the upcoming primary – Quatre Winner's face and name standing out prominently to Duo as he'd once campaigned for him, had dinner with him, laughed with him, believed in him. But he couldn't any more – not after his last trip out to DC. He felt like ripping his fair face off of every flyer he passed, those smiling lips and kind eyes a blatant lie. If only he'd known, he never would've agreed to this, the vaccine. They could've made it through some other way. Not like this. Not when so many people could die and they all fucking knew it and wouldn't do anything.

He wasn't voting this year – that was for damn sure. Maybe he wouldn't vote ever again.

When Duo caught sight of his scowl as he passed by the long sheet glass of the shops on the street, he stopped, tried to at least straighten his face into something remotely presentable to his clients. He hated to be negative while he was trying to motivate people to do something they typically didn't really want to do, but sometimes it was difficult to separate his personal life from his trainer persona.

He was just about to the gym when his phone rang, the dumb tone he'd programmed in for Heero chiming and his brows furrowed, puzzled. Heero knew his schedule and would never call this close to the start of his shift. It wasn't like Heero to be confused and that worried him.

"Hey babe," he greeted as he held the phone to his ear. "Everything okay out there?"

"No, everything is not okay." Heero's voice was strained and panicky, his breath coming in pants and Duo's chest constricted painfully as every horrifying scenario Heero had recounted to him over the past several months immediately flashed through his mind all at once, clouding his ability to think, and he stopped mid-stride in the middle of the street, begging his hands to stop shaking.

"It's happening. It's happening now." He was breathless and Duo's heart started racing. Heero was in fucking Washington DC, almost three thousand miles away. This couldn't be happening – not now.

"What?" Duo interjected, hoping with what he knew was futility that Heero was just exaggerating. But Heero wasn't the type to exaggerate.

"I don't know – bombings, I think. They're evacuating now. The plane – shit!" Static crackled through the line for a minute and Duo's eyes widened in shock as he repeated Heero's name several times, desperate for that not to be it, not to be last time he heard Heero's voice.

"Sorry, there's – get to a safe place. Surely they'll hit LA." Heero was pleading, the distress in his voice causing a sympathetic reaction in Duo.

"What about you?" The fact that Heero intentionally omitted whatever it was he was going to say made panic rise in his throat and the fact that the question didn't come out several pitches higher was an accomplishment.

"I'm almost at a fallout shelter," Heero assured him but Duo's terror was rising regardless.

"I want you home," he begged quietly, knowing there was nothing he could do to change the situation.

"I know, I wish I was home too, but listen to me," Heero said, voice unwavering and serious, calming him despite the situation. "Stay where you are. I will find you. You understand me? _I will find you._ I lo –"

And then without any warning the line died. Duo started at the phone, immediately trying to redial but all he got was Heero's voicemail.

"Fuck!" he shouted, completely ignoring everyone on the street as he shook his phone in his hand, wanting to smash it against the ground in frustration. He didn't even get to say goodbye. Heero could be fucking dead for all he knew. DC could've been blasted off the face of the map and everyone was just walking around like nothing had happened, like nothing had changed.

He stared at the people walking down the street – confused, unsure of what he should do. Going back to their apartment seemed foolish as it wasn't even ground floor and didn't offer any particular amount of protection and he wasn't sure LA even had a fallout shelter – at least he'd never seen one.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered under his breath, frustrated, staring around at everything in desperation, willing some kind of plan to come to him, gathering a few curious looks from passersby. And then he thought of the showers at work, located in the center of the building on the ground floor – no windows, no outside facing doors, just concrete and tile enclosures safe from the outside. As safe as anywhere else he could go.

Duo's mind raced as he maneuvered through the street, back ramrod straight, single-minded purpose obvious in his long stride. Heero's voice slammed through his brain, his last 'I love you' cut off and destroyed. He wondered how long it would be before whatever was happening there would happen here. He wondered how long it would be before people started to die.

He threw open the doors to the gym and the first thing he noticed was that everyone's eyes were glued to the television screens. There were no pictures inside the city, the video was filmed from a distant point outside DC, but it looked like the whole skyline was on fire, dark, billowing smoke clouding out the sky. The TV was turned up – unusual but warranted – as the anchor described the attack in vague and uncertain terms, obviously having no real information and instead just repeating to stay tuned as they tried to get updates from inside the city.

"We have to get to the showers," Duo announced to his teammates and then all eyes turned towards him in a mix of fear, apprehension, uncertainty, and surprise.

"Duo…?" asked Susan, twisting her long brown hair nervously in her fingers, no one knowing what else to say, still in shock from the capital being attacked by an unknown source.

It was like 9/11 all over again but Duo wasn't a kid anymore and his future husband was in that city and it fucking mattered to him. They stood there like sheep, blinking in confusion, and he was just trying to hold himself together and not think about how Heero could never have survived that smoke filled screen, how any minute they could be blown to kingdom-fucking-come, how even if they survived the initial attack there would be a plague and people would die anyway – they would all fucking die anyway.

"We have to get to the showers. They're gonna bomb us too."

Disbelief was the overriding expression he got back and he wanted to stomp his feet, scream, tell them they were all idiots but he felt defeated then and he didn't care. It didn't matter. Maybe LA wouldn't even be hit. Maybe it would just be DC and it would just be Heero and Quatre was wrong and life would go on for everyone but him –

But he couldn't let himself think like that. He had to hold his shit together. He was the only one who really had half a shot at surviving this and he knew it.

"How could you know that?" Steve challenged and Duo wanted to punch him right in his chiseled fucking face. He always had to challenge every damn thing…

"I just fucking do, okay?" he demanded and just as the words left his mouth, the TVs went dark, the lights shut off, and every piece of technology in the building stopped functioning completely. And all Duo could think was 'well, fuck.'

Immediately the expressions of his co-workers shifted to understanding and they all seemed to move as one in a mad rush towards the showers, just as Duo had originally suggested. There weren't many clients but the ones that were there were obviously smart enough to figure out some kind of shit was going down and they followed without question. Susan clung to him and they hunkered down in the shower together with a few other girls and he wrapped her up in his arms as they waited, resting his chin on her head and holding her tight.

For one desperate moment he could pretend that she was Heero, that Heero was safe, that they were there together, about to face whatever may come together, even though it was a lie. He squeezed her a little harder, bit down on his lip, willed himself maintain some damn control and not think about DC, not think about what could've happened to Heero, and instead focus on his promise – that he would find him. Heero didn't use words lightly and he wouldn't have said that if he didn't mean it, if he didn't think it were possible. He wouldn't give Duo false hope.

Maybe Heero's cell phone just died like the TVs did and he still had a few minutes before the bombs, just like they did now. Heero had said he was near a fallout shelter. Surely he made it in time. Heero was nothing if not damned determined.

"Duo?" Susan asked quietly and they felt the ground shake under them, ever so slightly, just a small tremor like the beginnings of earthquakes they'd all felt an innumerable number of times living on a fault line. "How did you know?"

His frame shook in the same small way the ground did but it was of its own accord and he felt rocked to his core, as though a bomb had hit him instead of the city.

"Heero called me," he whispered, barely able to speak without breaking into spontaneous tears as he considered the words he was about to say. "Heero is in DC."


	8. Day of Last Communication (Heero)

**Day of Last Communication**

It was Heero's last full night in DC and he was just stopping by Quatre's office to see him before he headed home tomorrow. He knew what his partner thought of Quatre now, after everything, even if he never let it on – but Heero couldn't help but be ingratiated to the other man. If ultimately he saved Duo's life, there was nothing Heero wouldn't do for him.

He had only just arrived when Quatre got the call that they were being evacuated to the Cheyenne Mountain Complex. Quatre's eyes were apologetic but there was no need – there was no way in hell Heero was getting into a moving target. He'd take his chances on the ground with bombs any day rather than risk being shot out of the sky, nothing more than a sitting duck.

The timing was inconvenient but then at least he knew what was happening before it was even truly happening. He didn't wait to see Quatre go. He had to do the only thing he could do, which was get to the fallout shelter and warn Duo. Thankfully, such shelters literally overran DC from the 60's and he didn't have to go far from Quatre's office to find one. Obsessive planner that he was, he had scoped all the nearby shelters out in the preceding weeks and knew their locations exactly.

As soon as he exited the building he whipped out his phone and dialed Duo, heart already racing with anxiety and the effort of moving faster than he really should be able to with his handicap.

"Hey babe." Duo's voice over the line caused a flood of emotion through him, fear and love and just wanting to be there overwhelming him suddenly and he sucked in air, feeling gutted. "Everything okay out there?"

"No, everything is not okay." He glanced around the street as he came to a light, stood impatiently in the obligatory cluster of people trying to cross the street, attempting to catch his breath and ignore the disconcerted stares of the pedestrians around him. "It's happening. It's happening now."

"What?" Duo interjected quickly but Heero knew he knew. Quatre didn't give him any specifics before he left, but then no one really knew. All they had was a few intercepted e-mails and missing CDC samples.

"I don't know – bombings, I think. They're evacuating now. The plane – shit!" Just as he'd made it across the street, the blast of planes breaking the sound barrier hit and overwhelmed everything. He stared up into the sky, seeking out aircraft that were long gone now.

He was drawn back by Duo repeating his name into the phone.

"Sorry, there's –" Shit. He couldn't really tell him there was about to be a full-blown fucking who-knew-what with high grade military aircraft in the sky. So he immediately switched tactics. "– get to a safe place. Surely they'll hit LA."

The thought was sobering. Foolishly, they had never accounted for a situation like this. It was Heero's impression that the virus would be released more covertly than this – that

he'd have time to make it back by car if he had to, even if everyone was dying around him.

"What about you?" He winced at the fairly panicked tone of Duo's voice as he sped up down the street.

"I'm almost at a fallout shelter." Heero assured him as much as possible, but what could he really say? He couldn't hold him, couldn't kiss his forehead and tell him everything was going to be okay. Fuck.

"I want you home." Duo's voice was quiet and sincere and Heero's fingers trembled on the phone so bad he was afraid for a second he might drop it. Home. It was the only place he wanted to be but he was three thousand miles away.

"I know – I wish I was home too." He paused, willing his voice not to crack as he leaned heavily on the inside of a doorframe, completely ignoring the shocked business owner glaring at him through the glass.

He closed his eyes and pictured Duo, his handsome face, smiling that self-confident smirk he always smiled when he looked at him, like he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he completely and utterly possessed him. And he did. There was nothing about himself he wouldn't give to Duo.

He took a few labored breaths to calm himself before he continued, his voice coming out smooth, steady, and even. The least he could do. "But listen to me, stay where you are." And then he made the promise he would never break, the promise Duo had made to him so long ago.

"I will find you. You understand me? _I will find you._ I love you, Duo, I – I love you so much..." He bit into his lower lip and waited for the faithful answer but heard nothing. Nothing but silence.

His heart ached as he opened his eyes and tilted his head forward, staring at the phone, trying to make the screen come back on before he realized it was completely dead.

"Shit!" he cursed, knowing he had at least half a battery before looking around and realizing _everything_ was dead. Cars stopped completely in the road, street lights dead, lights out inside buildings. It had to be some damn strategic, powerful EMP blast to cause that kind of blackout.

His eyes met the blank screen of his phone once more and his heart pounded in his chest. He didn't know when the line cut out, he just hoped Duo heard him. Because he would come for him, he _would_ make it home – even if he had to walk across the whole damned country.

Quickly, he slipped his phone in his pocket and gripped the tiny velvet covered box there, clutching it in his hand for a minute, letting the texture sooth him as the ground rocked underneath him and he fought not to pitch forward. He had to make it to the fallout shelter – had to survive this so that he could get home.

It was strangely eerie _not_ to hear emergency sirens as he stepped out from the doorway, looking back over his shoulder to see smoke rising in the distance. He lurched forward. Only two more blocks.

The ground rose up to meet him and he was momentarily stunned, ears ringing, brain completely confused over what happened until a wash of dust from collapsing buildings overtook him and he realized it was another bomb – much, much closer this time. Fuck. He stumbled to his feet, grounding himself with his carbon fiber prosthetic, and threw his elbow over his face – a useless attempt not to breathe in dust. This wasn't happening. He had to get to the fallout shelter.

People were running in a mad panic down the street, abandoning buildings and cars, but he could hardly hear them. Determination gripped him as he pushed forward, forcing himself on, ignoring the fact that all of them were faster than him. They were running right past the door to the shelter, not even aware of its existence. He would get there and there would be space for him. It would be okay. He would survive this so that he could get home.

He imagined Duo there, gripping his hand, giving him that look with expressive blue eyes that said he believed he could do damn near anything. Duo always believed in him. Always. Even though he'd seen him weak, desperate, falling apart, having PTSD related flashbacks – he never doubted him. And now wasn't the time to start proving him wrong.

The ground rocked beneath him again but he remained standing, just reached out to touch the brick of the building next to him, steadying himself. Must've dropped further away this time. There was no deafening repercussions, no backlash of debris.

Heero picked up his pace, reaching the doorway in the small amount of time the earth stood still. Only a few days ago he had scoped out this location, knew it was just down the hall of this 1960's restored financial building and a flight of stairs down but he paused once he stood inside, listening closely to the sounds of desertion. He turned and looked out the glass door, watching as every few seconds a person or two passed, running although seemingly thoughtless to where they were going.

Guilt wracked him as he looked back at the stairs to the shelter, knowing that if the situations were reversed Duo would try to offer help to those people out there, no matter how bad an idea or what the risk. No matter that they may all be dead in three weeks anyway. Once more he found himself fingering the little box, reminding himself that he wanted to be the kind of man Duo respected – the kind of man that deserved to place a ring on his finger.

"Fuck me," he grumbled under his breath as the building shook beneath him. He threw open the door then, yelling at the people passing him to get their attention.

"There's a fallout shelter here! Come on!"

Although ignored by some, a few sets of perplexed eyes blinked at him as he waved them forward impatiently, a few more people following as they saw what was happening.

"Thanks," a woman with blond hair offered breathlessly and touched his shoulder as they entered the building once more. Heero flinched away and she seemed offended but he shrugged it off.

"Sorry," he offered then, feeling guilty once more, "I just –"

His sentence never finished as he was thrown into the opposite wall by the force of the blast. Immediately, he threw his arms over his head out of habit as he hit the floor and the ceiling fell in on them. He cursed himself for going back for those fucking people who were probably dead now anyway.

But he wasn't dead. Not yet.

He coughed and his ribs ached and he didn't really want to think about what that meant as he slowly lifted broken sheetrock off himself. It was just like Fallujah all over again and he fought back the terror churning his stomach, clawing up his throat. Now was not the time to have a flashback, a breakdown.

Duo's voice was there, then, low in his ear, whispering that he was okay, that everything was okay, that he loved him and that he could do this. And he knew he didn't have a choice. He had to make it to that fallout shelter. Now, after all of this, after everything they did. He had to make it. He had to survive this. He _had_ to get home.


	9. 97 Days Until Last Communication

**97 Days Until Last Communication**

The taxi ride was uncomfortable, even for Duo with his considerable acclimation to Heero's moods, and the reunion with Quatre awkward and suspiciously quiet. Quatre lead them through the sterile lab wing, offering credentials when required, having their pictures taken, having them submit to metal detectors and invasive physical searches, having them sign forms waiving their rights as citizens of the United States if they ever spoke of what was about to happen here.

Duo had never been to Atlanta before and naively thought this would be a fun trip for them – that they might stay at a fancy hotel in the city and sight-see and eat at classy restaurants. But Heero's constant preoccupation only became worse since they boarded the flight and he seemed to totally forcibly block out every signal and suggestion Duo threw at him. It put him in a foul mood. He understood that Heero had a lot on his mind, but frankly he was getting tired of being shoved out of the other man's reality in lieu of dark, unforeseeable futures.

Their shoes echoed on the tile but otherwise they were completely silent as a woman with curled hair lead them back to a room that looked surprisingly like a normal doctor's examination room to Duo. Well, as far as the big, reclined patient chair, sink, cabinets, rows of sterilizers and sharps containers were concerned – but there was no out-dated wallpaper or poorly done watercolors of little boats or flowers here.

The sound of protective white paper being pulled down over the beige vinyl was almost too loud in the little room. Quatre had chosen to wait outside but Duo gave Heero a look that clearly stated he did not want to be left alone here, with her, and Heero noticed – for once – and complied. They stood there together, trying not to seem nervous, not touching one another but unsure what to do as she opened a hand-sized case she had been carrying, twisting the lock combination and removing two vials.

"Who wants to go first?" she asked with a smile that seemed completely out of place and they exchanged another look. Duo didn't want to be a pussy but the whole thing creeped him out. The security measures, the way Heero was acting, Quatre's silence, this woman and her weird little case of mystery vaccine – hell, just being at the CDC in general where they housed disease of mass destruction creeped him out. The rest was just messy icing on a poorly constructed cake.

"I will," Heero offered suddenly, breaking eye contact and moving to hop up on the chair, rolling up his sleeve. That was almost worse, Duo realized, his gut twisting a little as he watched the man he loved submit himself to this shot first, for him.

"I'd give you a consent form but, you now, this isn't technically legal," she joked but Duo didn't really appreciate the reminder of that fact. "As with any vaccine, you may experience soreness, redness, or swelling at the injection site. You may develop a fever or rash. A few people have reported vomiting and diarrhea twenty-four to forty-eight hours after injection, though this is uncommon." She prepped Heero's arm with alcohol as she said this and then smiled up at him.

"I will give you my personal number. Please do not hesitate to call me if either of you experience any symptoms or have any follow-up questions." She turned then and prepped the needle quickly, injecting it with clinical efficiency and Heero didn't flinch.

"One down," she announced cheerily as she peeled a bandaid over the site and disposed of the needle, Heero rolling down his sleeve.

Their eyes met again for a minute and it was just like when they signed those forms. Duo didn't feel right about it, but Heero's eyes would impress upon him this need, this urgency and Duo knew he didn't really have a choice. And Heero was probably right. All the politicians he worked with got the vaccine, Quatre had gotten it too, Quatre's family... Heero knew more about this than he did and he'd already decided to trust him this far.

So he traded places with Heero, sliding up his own sleeve, submitting to the alcohol pad, the prick of the needle, and the burning sensation down his arm.

"When is this going to be available to the public?" Duo asked as she turned to throw out the sharp and he pulled down his sleeve.

"Oh." She made a face then that wasn't particularly encouraging. "With regulations and testing and lobbying... we are predicting two or three years – hopefully. Though I doubt we'll have to worry about it at that point." Then she shrugged and rifled through her pockets for a business card, handing it to Heero as Duo retook his place by his side. "You guys are lucky to have friends in high places. I don't see too many civilians in here."

Duo frowned as she opened the door and motioned them out, Quatre leading them back through the maze of halls to the exit. But Duo's mind was still trapped in that room with her, repeating her words over and over in his head. _Though I doubt we'll have to worry about it at that point._

"Did she mean that this – whatever this _is_ – will happen before the vaccine is made public?" Duo hissed, grabbing the back of Heero's shirt to get his attention.

"It could happen at any time," Heero answered stoically, no emotion what-so-ever, not even glancing back in his direction so Duo turned to Quatre – but his face was equally blank.

"You just accept this? Are you doing nothing to try to speed the process along? These are your constituents," Duo argued, trying to keep his voice down in the echoing hallways but panic was rising quickly in his throat and it was difficult to keep it down.

"My hands are tied," Quatre returned calmly, completely unperturbed. "I try to help by getting as many civilians as I can in here. I don't like it, but that's all I can do."

Duo gapped, feeling betrayed. He was no more important than anyone else, certainly, and the whole situation was happenstance, coincidence, they'd done nothing to deserve protection and more than anyone else. It was wrong – on a global scale. Someone should say something, do something, but neither of them seemed to care. He couldn't just let it go. It wasn't in his nature to just let it go.

"But if –"

"Duo!" Heero cut him off immediately, sending back a hard glare in his direction. Duo paused a moment and swallowed, feeling like a child being scolded by the teacher.

After that, Duo kept his mouth shut, and the ride back to the hotel was miserable as Duo sulked, refusing to meet Heero's eyes, frustrated that neither he nor Quatre them seemed to care that people, a lot of people, could die. He still didn't really know if he believed anything was going to happen, but Heero did, and clearly Quatre did, and the doctor, and all of them seemed so damned complacent and that wasn't Duo. He couldn't be okay with this.

"Now that we've accomplished what we came here for, we can go to that restaurant you wanted to go to last night," Heero offered but Duo just lay down on the bed, back facing his partner, and closed his eyes, blocking out the room, wishing he could be anywhere else other than there with him at that moment but there was nowhere for him to go.

"I don't really feel like it." He heard Heero pause a minute, could feel his eyes on his back, then the soft rustle of fabric as he began unbuttoning his shirt.

"We could get room service, then," he offered and Duo could practically hear the follow-up of 'I know you like that.' Heero was trying but Duo was still pissed. He wasn't ready to forgive Heero yet. He wanted an apology. He wanted to know that Heero felt the same way he did.

"I'm not hungry."

Heero sighed at that but it was the truth. His stomach felt sick and he just wanted to be left alone.

"Don't be mad at me," Heero asked, a little hint of desperation at the edges of his voice, and Duo felt the bed shift as Heero's weight was added to it. "I'm just trying to do the right thing for us."

"I know," Duo groaned, that being the entire issue. "For _us_."

"That's all I can do," Heero said, sounding frustrated and Duo felt a slight tug on his braid and knew Heero was thumbing it, hesitant to actually reach out to him and touch him, scared of his wrath but then still needing his reassurance.

Duo turned over then and looked up at him, biting his lip, feeling a little guilty at the sad look on Heero's face. Maybe he judged Heero too harshly. Maybe Heero did care. Heero wasn't that great at expressing his emotions, tended to bury them down where no one could see them, use them against him, make him vulnerable and sometimes it was hard for Duo to remember that – that just because he didn't say it didn't mean he didn't feel it.

"I know," Duo admitted with a sigh. "I just – this all feels wrong. I feel guilty."

"It might not happen," Heero offered somewhat optimistically, but Duo knew that was only because he was thankful for Duo's attempt at communicating and that Heero would say anything to keep him from shutting down completely.

"But you think it will," Duo replied and Heero frowned.

"I do."

There was silence between them for a moment and Duo fingered the edging of Heero's open shirt absently, not knowing what to say, not knowing what Heero could say to make him feel better. Really, there truly was nothing Heero could do. It wasn't fair to hold that against him.

"I wish Quatre had never said anything," Duo muttered at last as Heero's hand covered his own, halting it, and he released the soft linen of Heero's shirt.

"But he did." Heero lifted his hand to his lips, pressing the knuckles against soft flesh and staring down into Duo's eyes honestly. "And I have to try to protect you."

Heero moved his hand to his cheek and Duo watched as he closed his eyes and nuzzled against his palm before lacing their fingers together and leaning down to kiss him.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," Heero murmured against his lips and Duo couldn't be mad any more. He knew intimately Heero's insecurities, his worries, and he opened his mouth a little wider, encouraging Heero to kiss him a little deeper. He slid his hand through his hair, lovingly cradling his head as they kissed, telling him with his body that he knew, that he would always be there, warm and tangible and _his_.


	10. 59 Days Since Last Communication

Hey everyone! Just wanted to drop a note and say thank you SO MUCH for your continued readership of this story. :D I so appreciate all the comments, faves, and follows. I will be taking a break next week and not posting due to the holidays, but I hope that you enjoy this look into Heero's "present" and that have a wonderful holiday season as well!

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**59 Days Since Last Communication**

Heero wasn't exactly sure how long he lay under that rubble, breathing shallowly, pain washing in waves through his body until someone came by and helped dig him out. He didn't think it was more than a few hours but time was muddled in his head as he fought down panic and painful memories, barely conscious, fighting just to keep his brain from overwhelming him.

His ribs were cracked, he was sure, but the didn't think they were broken, hadn't punctured a lung, thankfully, and that seemed to be the only real injury he sustained. But he remembered staring back horrified at the beam that would've crushed his leg if he'd still had one, instead just leaving scratches on his prosthetic. He shuddered to think what an injury like that could've done to him. The blood loss alone could've killed him.

It was the first time in his life he was truly thankful for his handicap. In the days following he would sit and stare at the prosthetic, knowing that without it he would've never gotten home, never gotten back to Duo.

He drug himself a few blocks from the fallout shelter and spent nearly four weeks in a partially collapsed service station, eating pasta out of cans, potato chips and pretzels, drinking warm bottled water, washing himself in the employee bathroom sink. The owner came to it once three or four days into his stay there and Heero left for a few hours. The man was sick, it was obvious, coughing, sweating, weak and Heero knew he wouldn't make it. He didn't know if the disease was dropped with the bombs or introduced some other way but it was obvious – this guy had whatever it was and he wasn't going to last long.

By the time Heero finally felt strong enough to leave, everyone was dead.

He hadn't wanted to wait that long to start the return trip to California, but he knew he wasn't going to make it far with cracked ribs if he didn't give them a chance to heal a little. Whatever method of EMP blast they'd used was like nothing Heero had ever seen before. Most cars now had electronic components and were completely immobilized by the blast. He figured he might be able to hotwire a car if he found one old enough but a lot of the trip, at least here at the beginning, would be on foot.

His hope was that once he was outside the city, the effects of the EMP blast would be minimal to the point of finding a car that functioned even with computer electronics. Gas might be problematic – while he certainly had enough money in his bank account to slide his card through the machine back and forth to California twenty times, those card readers usually connected to a database on the back end that more than likely wasn't functioning. It would probably be easier to siphon gas from other cars or ditch it when it ran out of gas for another.

Regardless, he immediately gave up any hope of commandeering a vehicle inside the district. Heero found a map in service center and marked out his route, deciding to just take I-40 all the way home. He knew it was going to be iffy getting out of the city, roads destroyed, whole sections of the city bombed and in fact, it took him nearly three more weeks just to get outside of I-495.

As near as he could tell, most of everything inside the loop had been decimated. Occasionally he would find a pocket of street that was mostly intact and maybe a little service center or grocery store where he could gorge himself on junk food and resupply, but in general it was slow going over collapsed buildings and he had to change course and then try to work his way back to I-66 as much as possible before being waylaid again. The last thing he wanted was to fall through a weakened pile of rubble and have to dig himself out or – though he didn't like to think about it – hurt himself any worse than he already was. His ribs slowed him down significantly, forcing him to rest and take agonizing breaks when he didn't really want to – he couldn't afford any further injury.

Nights became dangerous as the stink of dead and rotting bodies began to build and carrion animals descended upon the city. Heero knew their interest wasn't with him, but it was still better to be safe than sorry, and after seeing a mountain lion standing not fifteen feet from him in broad daylight, he would try to find shelter in a building as the sun set, giving up precious hours to stay safe. He could only imagine they must've come from the Appalachian mountains, but it was nothing he ever expected to see in his lifetime.

Then again, prior to meeting Quatre, he never expected to see the fucking apocalypse in his lifetime either but maybe that went without saying.

When he finally reached Idylwood Park and the point where I-495 met I-66 there were fifty-two notches in his belt for every day that passed but the sense of accomplishment he felt was unmatched by any previous experience in his life. He was tired, hungry, dirty, and he hurt all over but he was finally, _finally_ on his way home. On his way back to Duo.

Heero felt stupid for never considering this outcome – that they might be separated and unable to communicate with one another. The only thing he had was Duo's voice in his ear, telling him he wanted him home, and it fueled him forward no matter how slowly he was forced to go. He couldn't imagine being in Duo's position, stuck waiting for an eventually he couldn't at all be sure of. But then Duo knew him, knew was a stubborn, determined bastard he could be, knew he survived Fallujah against all odds, drinking his own piss to stay hydrated with his leg busted to shit, gangrene setting in. Duo had to believe he would come. He just had to.

Hitting the highway was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, the highway was basically empty and though the blast radius extended a few miles outside of DC, it was only another day or so before the road was smooth and unmarred and that sure made walking a hell of a lot easier. But on the other hand it took longer to find shelter at night unless there was a hotel right off the highway. A few times Heero debated wandering off course and seeking out a WalMart or something and acquiring a tent but there were upsides and downsides to that decision. His ribs were doing significantly better but it would still be added weight and while with a car it wouldn't be a problem, he still didn't think he was out of the EMP blast zone and didn't want to waste time searching for a car that wouldn't even work.

But it wasn't long, before hunger, exhaustion, and frustration dictated he had to try. When I-66 hit I-81 he decided that then was as good a time as any to stop and if he wasted a day trying to find a car then at least he could make it up simply by having a car. Even with half a tank of gas he could probably make a good hundred and fifty miles in a car in a few hours - which would take him who knew how many days on foot.

However he was immediately encouraged when he saw the electronic sign on the Denny's was still advertising a long expired grand slam breakfast and that meant that he was finally outside the EMP blast radius. It was probably the first time since he left LA two months ago that an unstoppable smile worked it's way onto his face and he set out for the hotel down the street.

There were a few cars in the hotel parking lot, which was promising. Everything else was deserted but then if you got that sick out of town were you really going to try to make it back home? Heero hoped, while he was being optimistic, that he might just be able to break into a guest room, steal a dead guy's keys, and take a car that way. Either way he was going to take a shower, rest, and get a car working before he left this place.

But first thing's first – the car. It was the only way he was going to be able to relax. Heero managed to get into the employee keycard system with a password tapped to the monitor and created a master card for himself. He noted the rooms of the three guests left and went in search of them.

When he approached the first room he knew it by the smell. It was horrendous – bodies swollen and bloated with decay – and he might've been sick if he wasn't numb from hunger pangs. But thankfully the keys were sitting on the bedside table so it was a quick in-and-out operation. The next room wasn't so easy but he figured it would be better to have at least two sets in case the gas tank of one was empty. He had to spend a few minutes digging through the pockets of dirty laundry, holding his breath as much as possible, but he was rewarded with the keys and that was enough.

After that, Heero decided two of three was good enough, and decided to raid the kitchen. At one point they had some kind of continental breakfast available and while things like croissants were molded and anything diary spoiled, there were still several sealed bags of cereal and canned peaches and bottled water and took a stash over to the nearest room, unloading it on the table and staring at the clean, orderly room with an intense feeling of depression and longing. He didn't even know if Duo heard him say I love you that one last time and here he was – another hotel room. He'd seen the inside of so many over the past few years but this time he couldn't lay down in bed, pick up the phone, and dial Duo's number.

He tried to stave off the depression. Took a hot shower, unsure if the water was still potable but not really caring at that point, not looking at himself in the mirror, not wanting to see how thin he was, how long his beard was. And he ate methodically, barely tasting the food despite how hungry he was, letting it slide down his throat until he felt uncomfortably full, not wanting to think about what he was eating or why he was eating it or when he would eat next.

And then he lay down on the bed, naked, and tucked himself up under the sheets. He opened the little velvet box he'd set on the table after he'd undressed and stared at the thick, dark grey tungsten band inside. He picked up the phone out of habit, listened to the dialtone. He didn't want to type the all too familiar digits in but he did anyway, knowing it was futile but still hoping.

The harsh tones and the irritating "this call could not be completed as dialed" weren't unexpected but still – Heero hit the button to end the call but kept the receiver against his ear.

"Duo," he said softly, so quiet he almost couldn't hear himself speak. "It's been sixty days. I miss you and I... I love you."


	11. 1423 Days Until Last Communication

Wow. So sorry for the late posting, I totally didn't realize how the holidays were going to extend all the way to the new year. ;-P Hope you are having a wonderful, relaxing time with friends and family and, as always, thank you for reading! :D

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**1423 Days Until Last Communication**

Duo wiped his sweat-soaked brow on the back of his arm and turned to grin at Heero, who glared back with the full force of his most intense irritation, sweat soaking his shirt so that it clung to him in a very appealing way despite the brooding look on his face. He laughed to himself. They both knew Heero could do it, he just didn't want to. Didn't want to get sweaty and not get a shower and sleep in a tent and eat protein bars and jerky for dinner and Duo understood that, really, knew he had some bad memory surrounding camping or something but honestly – Duo lived for this shit and he wanted to share that with the man he was pretty sure he was completely in love with.

He stopped, waited a moment for Heero to come to a stop next to him, shouldering his bag a little and trying not to groan but Duo put his hands on his waist, heedless of how wet he was, and pressed a kiss to his lips with a smile. Heero withdrew uncomfortably, putting a hand on Duo's chest to push him away before stopping and staring at it in horror.

"You don't like it?" Duo teased, laughing, and Heero growled.

"No, I don't," he replied, obviously not sure where he should put his hands on his body so as not to have to touch himself which amused Duo all the more.

"Aw come on," he said, grabbing Heero's waist again, pressing his body up against his, licking his cheek and tasting the salty tang of sweat, mashing his face against the side of his head and murmuring in his ear. "Doesn't it kinda turn you on?"

"No," Heero said, so stoic there was no room for argument, and Duo backed away with a mock pout.

"Well, that's not fair. You look sexy as hell," he said, edges of his lips turning up again as Heero dropped his eyes, clearly embarrassed. Duo knew he had some body image issues, though he really couldn't understand why, and therefore saw fit to tell him at every opportunity just how attractive he was. "But we're almost to the campsite. There's a river nearby we can 'cool down' in." He wiggled his brows suggestively, reaching out to smack Heero's shoulder, and Heero rolled his eyes in response.

The campsite Duo had pre-emptively selected was quite a few miles short of his normal site on this particular trail but then he knew Heero was going to struggle, especially as it was his first time hiking, and really they had made better time than he'd expected and he was proud of Heero. And despite his bad attitude, Duo did catch him looking at the scenery, appreciating the view, the trees, the plants, the wildlife – the things that made Duo feel content here in a way that he rarely felt in the city. Not that he didn't enjoy the city life – he did. He loved going out, loved the people, loved the food and the atmosphere and the excitement but then there was something about this that was so calming, so real. He didn't worry, didn't stress, didn't have to present any kind of persona – it was just him, alone with his thoughts. Well, unless he was conducting a class, which was another matter entirely.

Rushing water could be heard a minute or so before they reached the river bank and Duo watched Heero's face as they broke through the treeline, noting how he relaxed – accepting that if Heero were anyone else maybe there would've been a smile but then that was good enough. He took what he could get with Heero. Truthfully, it was strangely endearing.

Duo set down his pack, slipping off his shoes and socks so that he could rest his legs in the water and Heero followed suit, removing his prosthetic so that he could massage his thigh. He figured despite Heero's best intentions, it would always be weaker, and this kind of activity was probably close to his limit.

"The view is really great at the campsite," Duo said, reaching down into the river to splash cool water up on his face and chest.

"I'm sure," Heero murmured and Duo looked over at him, sweat and water dripping off his face, and he felt suddenly like Heero wasn't talking about the campsite. He smiled, flattered.

They sat there for a few minutes until heart rates returned to normal, watching the water create little eddies and carry off leaves. The shared silence was something he appreciated about Heero over anyone else he'd dated – that he didn't have to act or put on a front or constantly present himself a certain way. And he felt Heero actually appreciated this about him, too, which only made it better.

"Hey," Duo eventually said, garnering a weary look from Heero and he cringed sympathetically. "I can take our packs up to the site. It's only another few minutes up the trail and then I'll come back and get you, huh?"

Heero's face clearly fought through weighing the options, wanting to stay but not wanting to seem pathetic in front of Duo but it wasn't like that for him. Heero didn't seem pathetic at all.

"I'm just happy you came," he said, trying to comfort the other man though not too obviously, and he leaned forward to kiss him lightly although Heero's mouth was set in a frown. He let his nose trail against Heero's and smiled a little, pulling away to look him in the eyes, suddenly overcome with the urge to tell him that he loved him but... but the words stuck in his mouth and really, Heero didn't seem big on verbal acknowledgements of affection and... and it was just putting himself out there in a way he hadn't done in a long time and why ruin what they had with meaningless words? It wouldn't add anything to their relationship to say them.

"I'll be back in thirty," Duo offered as he shook off his feet and slid back into his socks and shoes. "And if you get bored waiting, then just head up the trail until you reach the bridge. Once you cross it you'll see a thin trail to your left. It's not really a trail as much as a path beaten down by feet over time so you have to really look for it, ya know?" Duo explained as he picked up their bags and hefted one over each shoulder. "Anyway I'm sure you'll hear me but it's only five minutes on the path and the treeline clears and there you are."

Heero nodded and they shared one last look, Duo swallowing down barely contained emotions that he didn't understand why they were surfacing now, and turned to head back to the trail. He set a gruelling pace so he wouldn't have to leave Heero there long, trying to figure when these feelings for him became so overwhelming – but there was no specific moment, nothing he could pin-point, it was just... just the way he was.

The way Heero's eyes lingered just a moment, as if afraid to let him go. The way Heero curled up on himself at night, fingers grasping gently for his braid, hoping he wouldn't notice. The way Heero offered dates tentatively, afraid of his rejection, only wanting to make him happy. Sure, Duo might've picked him out for his self-confidence, and he had that in spades when it came to his career, his talents – but it was his uncertainty that Duo found endearing, his honest desire to please, his... what? His love? Was that what it was?

Duo sighed and slicked back his bangs from where they were plastered to his forehead, reviewing the tarp a minute. This was stupid, all this thinking. It wouldn't get him anywhere. If he wanted it resolved he'd just have to talk to Heero about it and, well – he'd see about that. Maybe.

He was just heading back to retrieve Heero when he heard the gunshots and cursed under his breath as birds launched into the sky in a flurry. There weren't supposed to be hunters up here but then their attitude was always so self-centered and –

Duo's train of thought was interrupted by an inhuman wail he couldn't place but it sure as hell didn't sound like any animal he'd ever heard, injured or not, and that was when it occurred to him.

_Heero_.

His heart began pounding in his chest as he ran back along the dirt path to where he'd left him, knowing that if anything happened to Heero he'd never be able to forgive himself. This sure as hell wasn't Heero's idea.

When he reached the river in record time and Heero wasn't there, he panicked momentarily, eye casting around desperately for some indication of where he might have gone. But then it occurred to him that he never would've been able to hear Heero's cry that distinctly from here and that he must've been on his way to the campsite and gotten off course somehow. So he turned around and made his way back, trying to stop his frantic breathing so he could listen for any indication of Heero's presence.

He found him not far past the bridge after hearing a shaky moaning, Heero having obviously fled from the trail in pain or fear or – Duo wasn't sure, but the brush was clearly tripped through and Heero was curled up on the ground, clutching his thigh and openly weeping. Duo didn't see any blood, but he rushed towards him anyway, falling to his knees beside him, putting his hands on his arm to roll him over and getting punched in the face for his effort.

Now the only blood was his own, dripping down his chin from a split lip, and he tried to back up but Heero grabbed at him, his eyes glazed over and vacant, cheeks still wet from tears, and fear gripped Duo's heart then as he realized – he didn't really know how Heero lost his leg and he didn't really know what Heero was capable of.

He shouted at him that it was him, Duo, that he was okay, that he was safe now and that he needed to stop as they scuffled through the leaves, Duo blocking the vicious attacks as best as he could until finally, instead of trying to push him away, he drew Heero in closer, held his arms in a bear hug so that he couldn't lash out. Although he was strong, way stronger than Duo had realized despite working out with him nearly every day, his resolve weakened and he must've figured out that he wasn't wherever his mind took him because his body went limp against Duo's chest as he began to cry again. Duo had never seen Heero cry before and the devastated sobbing was disconcerting, to say the least.

"I thought I was in that fucking desert," he finally managed out in a painful gasp and Duo held him tighter.

"No. You're here, with me," he replied, mind racing to put the pieces together so that he could do something to help even though Heero had never mentioned a desert before. "I thought you'd been shot."

"Shot...?" Heero quieted against him but kept his face pressed against Duo's sweaty t-shirt, breathing heavily into his chest.

"Yeah, I heard the gunshots, then I heard you, and I thought the worst," Duo admitted and felt Heero stiffen.

"I – I must've –" Heero's voice was strained and tense, almost embarrassed. "I was alone and I – I was lost and I –"

"No," Duo cut him off, burying his face in his hair. "You weren't lost because you have me now and I love you and I will find you, okay?" His words were clear and strong and he felt Heero tremble even as he tried to nod. "I will _always_ find you."

Heero's fists twisted in his shirt and Duo heard the harsh intake of breath catch in Heero's chest and he whispered – "I love you too."


	12. 137 Days Since Last Communication

I'll probably be dating myself a bit here, but while I was writing this the song "The Promise" by Tracy Chapman came up on my playlist and whlie that song totally has the power to make me cry in nearly any circumstance, especially when paired with Heero in this fic I found it especially heart wrenching. I'm not sure anything I ever wrote could do that song justice, but I do think this is as close as I'd ever get. Anyway – thank you for reading! 3

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**137 Days Since Last Communication**

Heero always figured that he would die in this desert. It was inevitable. There was nothing – no one coming for him – his team of well armored soldiers dead or missing, blown to smithereens, and he was just a very well compensated IT contractor. Fuck, if they couldn't make it, with their gear and their guns and their training... then how the hell was he supposed to?

Fuck.

But he wasn't one to give up easily and anyway, he had somewhere he had to be, right? Someone was looking for him or he was looking for someone or there was something he had to do and he could just get up right now if only he could feel his toes...

He squinted up at the sun blazing down on him and realized that something wasn't right. There wasn't enough pain. His leg was mauled in the unexpected bombing, the pain was unbelievable, and then the infection, after, was... How long had he been out here if it no longer hurt anymore? Realistically, you could only survive so many days without water so it didn't make sense that he could've been out here much more than...

Fuck.

This wasn't that desert. Heero glanced around through bleary eyes, disoriented. There were no shredded humvees, no bodies, no craters left by explosions. There was too much grass or... whatever it was and the vista was all wrong. He rolled over onto his stomach and coughed, dry air expelled from his lungs, lips cracked and he felt weak, so weak, and he still couldn't feel his toes.

Carefully, he hiked his knee up and felt with his hand where it ended into plastic cup and his whole arm shook as he realized it was gone – his leg was gone and replaced by something hard and fake and...

Fuck.

How could he forget? The HC-130 combat search and rescue flight, the sterile operating room, the calm voice telling him they were forced to amputate before putting him under. This wasn't that desert. That all happened a long time ago now. He worked for the NSA now. He worked for the...

But then what was he doing out here? His eyes swept the landscape for any indication of what he was doing out here and then he saw it – the minivan left in the middle of the road, the lifted, open top Jeep he'd been traveling in flipped on its side in the dirt, the contents of his supplies strewn all across the ground and then he remembered what happened. Then it all came back to him and his heart started pounding all over again as he realized just how close he'd come to death.

He'd found the Jeep in Albuquerque and felt pretty damn good as he'd not had much luck with vehicles and the days spent walking were starting to wear on him and he knew there wouldn't be much opportunity to get another vehicle through Arizona. And his walking speed had been greatly diminished by lack of proper nutrition, need for frequent rest, and the anxiety that grew with each passing day.

But the Jeep was a great find. It had a full tank of gas, the keys left in the ignition, and enough room for a ton of supplies and he figured he could at least make it to Flagstaff, maybe get lucky enough to be able to hotwire another car and get to LA in only a couple more days.

Honestly, it had been so long now and he'd lost track of the days when he had a spell with dehydration that left him delirious and confused and he wondered if Duo even still believed he would come. His hand reached into his pocket to finger the little velvet box, worn down by his constant attention, and he felt like crying as he realized he was going to have to walk and it could be another month or two before he would see Duo's face again.

There was no way he was going to be able to un-flip the Jeep. If only he had been paying more attention but exhaustion and stupid, cocky arrogance had him flying down the road without thought for the fact that there might be another car. It was nearly too late, impact imminent when he turned his eyes back to the road and saw the silver minivan and swerved to avoid collision, running himself off the road, flipping the Jeep and ejecting him from the vehicle. Now he probably had a fucking concussion and no car and fuck if he knew how long it would take to walk it now. He didn't even make Flagstaff.

Heero laid his head on the ground and fought back nausea. He wasn't sure if it was brought on by a concussion or if he was just so disgusted with himself by this point that the very thought of his failure made him want to vomit. What use was he even going to be to Duo by this point? Even if Duo did wait for him – which by this point he figured had to be pretty fucking unlikely – he was malnourished, weak, making dumb fucking mistakes and he had nothing to offer. Duo would just be taking care of him and that was nothing he wanted. He didn't want to be a burden to anybody, least of all the only person he loved.

But then he figured he had always been a burden to Duo. Duo was so wonderful and lively and full of fun and big ideas and Heero was always holding him back, afraid, trying to protect him, trying to keep him safe when what he really needed was someone to support him and help him achieve his goals – not hold his hand down and fuss over him. Fuck but he was so misguided. He thought he was helping, he thought he was providing them with a future but no – he had given them both nothing but a fucking disaster and so maybe it was better this way. Maybe he was always meant to have died in that desert outside Al Anbar but somehow fate intervened and he made it out save for his leg – who the fuck knows why, maybe so that he could save Duo's life, repay his debt, offer someone who truly deserved it a shot on this new frontier – and now this was just fate's way of saying his time was up. It wasn't Iraq but it was still a desert and he could die here as easily as he could die there and really his life would still have meant just as little.

Even as his head circulated defeatist thoughts, his analytical mind worked through the problem, staring at the minivan as if there was just something about it he couldn't understand. Why was it there? What was it doing and who would've driven it out to the middle of nowhere and abandoned it?

And before he even realized it or what he was doing he was sitting up unsteadily, staring at the vehicle now, knowing the only answer that made any sense. The only person who would've driven it out to the middle of nowhere and abandoned it was someone on their way to Flagstaff – just as he was.

Humans are hardwired for self-preservation. It was what made drinking his own piss in the desert where he'd ultimately sacrificed his leg bearable. It was what drove him through the gruelling therapy required to learn how to walk again. It was what gave him the stupid hope that one day someone might love him and that, against all the odds, that someone might be Duo and it was what gave him the courage to turn his failure around and ask him out to dinner that night all those years ago. And it was what found him smashing in the window of the minivan with a rock, reeling back from the overwhelming stench of rotting flesh.

He gagged but kept it together as he unlocked the doors, opening the driver's side and staring at the decaying flesh melting off the bones in the seat. It – "he" at one point, Heero supposed – had to go, but it was also so disgusting he didn't want to use his bare hands. His eyes cast around for something to aid him and he remembered the Jeep. It had big, thick, custom made, south-western style woven rug seat covers and if he was lucky, they were still there.

Heero wandered out to the crash site, finding his ejected bag and digging out bottled water, downing it more out of necessity than thirst. Wrangling the seat covers off a Jeep on its side was easier said than done but he managed and lugged the heavy things back with him to the minivan.

There was a moment where he stared at the dead body and felt like he should apologize for what he was about to do. It was ridiculous in a certain way but then it was also the final resting site of this man and he was about to disturb that and it felt wrong. He had never had to move a dead body like this before. But then he was still alive and he needed this vehicle more and so he threw one of the seat covers over the body and grimaced as he slid the mess out onto the pavement.

He threw the other cover over the seat where human slime was left and vowed that he would stop in Flagstaff and get a decent change of clothes. The gas gauge displayed a little over a quarter tank and he just hoped the battery wasn't dead. He chose not to think about the likelihood of that scenario as he put his hand on the key and took a deep breath through his mouth so he wouldn't have to smell what he was sitting in before turning over the ignition.

It labored and Heero growled and punched the steering wheel.

"Come on!" he shouted but his voice sounded strange even to him, more like a harsh croak than anything close to the words he'd intended. But he didn't really want to dwell on how long it had been since he'd used his voice. It was the same reason he avoided looking into mirrors.

He gave it a second before trying again, pressing the key hard to the right as if the harder he pressed the more likely the engine would be to turn over. But he had to stop again and take another frustrated breath. So fucking close.

On the third try all the lights on the dash lit up, the air condition started blasting and Elvis began a loud croon from the radio. He almost laughed as his hand smacked the panel hurriedly to turn off everything before trying again.

He took one more deep breath and let it go with something that resembled a prayer and turned the key in the ignition once more. It labored again but after a few tense moments the engine hummed to life and an uncontrollable smile split Heero's face. He felt blood drip down his chin from his cracked lips but he just wiped it on the back of his hand, uncaring, as he pressed his foot into the gas, charging the battery for a minute.

His hand found its way into his pocket again, making sure he had the ring with him before leaving this sorry, depressing stop on his way home. Because even if Duo had moved on, even if he wasn't there waiting, Heero kept his promises and he promised Duo he would find him and he sure as shit wasn't about to break that promise now. Not after everything he'd gone through to get this far.

As his hands gripped the steering wheel and he started forward to Flagstaff, he reiterated the promise in a whisper through teeth grit with determination.

"I _will_ find you."


	13. 1652 Days Until Last Communication

**1652 Days Until Last Communication**

Duo sighed as he fell heavily into his desk chair, staring at the picture of his most recent ex before growling, ripping it from the cork board, and throwing it in the trash.

"Lost another one?" Susan inquired as she walked by with some kind of smoothie from the break room, sitting down at her desk next to him. Duo frowned, offering her a frustrated glare, but it was a question that required no answer as she already knew what he would say.

"You'll find someone," she said, clearly trying to be sympathetic, but Duo was already dreading the next two hours where he had no clients scheduled. The last thing he wanted to do was spend it bitching about his ex and his failed romantic life in general.

To be honest, he didn't really care. He was just tired of dealing with petty jealousy. It was almost worse than the guys who only wanted one thing. At least then he had no expectation of trust. But to constantly be accused of infidelity was more than he could bear. His job required him to interact with a lot of attractive people who cared a lot about what they looked like, but that didn't mean he was interested in any of them.

"You just can't give up," Susan continued, clearly undaunted by his outright lack of acknowledgement for the forced conversation. "Your soul mate is out there."

"Do you really believe that bullshit?" Duo asked frankly, pushed over the edge as she had been married and divorced twice by the age of twenty-six. But her wide eyes just blinked in surprise, clearly offended.

"Of course I do," she answered sagely. "It's not bullshit. We all have someone we are spiritually tied to, who will cross generations to come find us, who –"

Duo tried not to roll his eyes as he tuned her out, glancing over to his computer screen to check his monthly sales goals. Most of the time, he didn't really care about love. He was happy enough having a guy around for a few months to go to dinner with, to share his bed and make sure he got home okay at the end of the night but sometimes... Sometimes he wanted more than that. Sometimes he wanted someone who would fight for him.

Maybe that was an unrealistic expectation. He had been adopted into what he thought of as one of life's great love stories and he grew up watching a selfless kind of love where any adversity could be overcome with patience, understanding, and a tender hug or kiss. Where the only thing that mattered was supporting and defending those that you loved – even when they were wrong. It wasn't until he was off on his own that he realized that kind of love was special, rare, and likely way the fuck out of his grasp. And although he loved his parents, they set him up with some seriously unrealistic expectations.

He knew from the beginning that this guy wasn't ever going to be that, so he sighed and let it go. They'd had a nice few months and that was all he'd ever expected from that relationship so he shouldn't be disappointed. He should just learn either not to care or not to get involved at all.

"Have you heard a single word I just said?" Susan asked, perfect pink mouth set into a pout.

"Huh?" Duo asked, turning his eyes away from the computer screen and she whined his name petulantly. But he was scanning the floor, continuing to ignore her, and so he noticed when _he_ walked in. Duo had never seen him there before – all classically handsome Marlon Brando kinda shit with dark tousled hair falling into his eyes and full lips, trim waist and narrow hips, and although he clearly could do with some lifting, he definitely had potential.

Duo snapped out of his stare and realized his mouth had been hanging open slightly, clicking his teeth shut with an embarrassed flush when he heard Susan's laughter.

"I think Duo's found his soul mate," she said to Kevin, who rolled his eyes as Duo glared back at them. "I don't think he's a customer. I'm gonna message Tina to send him to you." He heard the click of the keys and sighed, seeing his fate sealed.

"You wouldn't really fuck a cripple," Kevin stated with a skeptical and disgusted raised brow and Duo stared in shock, looking from Kevin back to the mystery man, noting the prosthetic leg that he'd merely scanned over before.

"That man is _gorgeous_," Duo stated without reservation as he looked back to Kevin. "You bet I'd fuck that."

"Christ," Kevin muttered, shuddering a little as he walked away and Duo frowned, unable to believe someone would be that narrow-minded but then, given his place of employment he supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Everyone was very image focused, especially the other trainers. Duo just enjoyed the challenge, getting to work with his body, and helping people change their lives and habits more than anything else.

Tina waved at him from the front desk and Duo waved back, attempting to hastily forget the unsettling comment as he plastered a friendly smile onto his face. Susan was giggling but Duo ignored her as the man walked over and Duo stood to greet him with a warm handshake across the desk.

"I'm Duo," he said, undaunted by the other man's stoicism. "Nice to meet you."

"Heero," he replied as their hands dropped, not even the hint of a smile on his face. "Likewise." He didn't seem too thrilled but then Duo let it go. Often people were nervous, expecting him to try to upsell them into services they didn't want.

"I suppose you'd like the grand tour?" Duo asked with a wink before leading him through the gym, careful not to leave anything out, even though he figured Heero probably couldn't really use a treadmill or an elliptical. He certainly wasn't going to bias him the way Kevin did.

Heero didn't say much and Duo led him back to his desk, trying to gauge his interest without making any assumptions but luckily Heero was pretty forthright once they were resettled.

"I'm really looking for a personal trainer," he said, and although Heero did seem a little ashamed, Duo didn't call that out, and just smiled, genuine, as he always did.

"Yeah? Well I'd be more than happy to help you with that," Duo said. "Is there anything specific you'd like to focus on? I mean obviously I would develop a meal and exercise plan tailored specifically to you..."

"Frankly I think my diet is fine," he stated matter-of-factly and Duo nodded, sure he was probably right as despite not having great muscle tone, he was far from fat. "But I would like to build muscle. I was in physical therapy for several months and after that my exercise regime was basically abandoned. I need help tailoring a program to my specific requirements now."

Duo took in the way Heero avoided making eye contact as he spoke, preferring to stare at the desk, his own hands, a point over Duo's shoulder where nothing of any real interest existed. Clearly he was still struggling with his injury and didn't like to talk about it. Not that Duo could blame him but he was glad for the sensitivity he had employed up until this point and made a special note not to do anything which might cause Heero to feel that he was treating him differently.

Which, Duo admitted to himself, was going to be a unique challenge as his desire to flirt with this handsome customer nearly got the better of him.

"Sure," he said instead, casual and easy. "I am sure we can come up with something together that would be perfect for you."

Duo pulled out several premade sheets of exercises which he used to design work out routines by checking off different activities for different days.

"I am concerned," Heero started carefully, clearly humiliated as his hands tightened into fists on his knees and he stared at the sheets with no small amount of reservation, "about my ability to complete any task with my leg as it is now."

Duo attempted to meet his eyes although Heero was doing his damned best to make sure that was impossible. He couldn't offer him any measure of comfort without being able to see him but then maybe Heero didn't want to be comforted, he figured as he put himself in Heero's shoes, thought about what Kevin said, clearly disgusted. Maybe to Heero comfort looked like pity.

"You said you underwent physical therapy, yeah?" Duo asked and Heero nodded his head slightly.

"Yeah."

"And obviously you can walk, right, and that was no easy feat, eh?" Duo asked and once again Heero nodded, but seemed a little embarrassed this time.

"Yeah."

"Well, here's the thing, Heero," Duo said with a grin, watching as Heero's eyes finally slid over to his, reluctant but nevertheless. "I believe you can do anything you damn well want to do with enough determination."

Heero seemed hesitant but it was only for a moment and in that tiny moment before resolve formed deep within Heero's eyes something passed between them that made it hard for Duo to catch his breath enough to speak. For a moment all that bullshit Susan had spouted about soul mates seemed strangely tangible and Duo knew – Heero would fight for the things he loved. He didn't know anything about Heero – didn't know if he had a wife or kids already or if he even swung his way but he knew, knew beyond a doubt – Heero was the kind of man he'd been waiting for.

Or at least so rebound lust and infatuation dictated, he told himself as he swallowed down butterflies.

"You could probably even do leg press, you know, with a spotter who knew what they were doing," he offered and winked as he turned back to the papers.

Heero seemed to relax then, his fingers loosening, leaning back in the seat and watching Duo as he checked boxes and rambled about how upper body especially shouldn't be a problem for him and that they'd just have to be more creative with lower body routines. Duo explained everything to him and Heero listened and made suggestions based on his comfort level and experience. They worked out a schedule together and Duo felt pretty confident that he'd be able to help Heero achieve his goals and really, that was enough for him. But if he got a little eye candy while doing it, well, that was just icing on the cake.

"So I'll see you tomorrow then?" Duo asked as they stood after they finished up and he processed Heero's membership. Heero just nodded his head and Duo reached out to shake his hand one more time, warm palms pressed against one another, and he smiled. "I look forward to working with you."

Heero smiled then, just the barest hint of curled lips that was likely forced anyway but nonetheless Duo felt his heart skip a beat to see that tiny expression of pleasure, wondering what the genuine article would look like and if he would ever see it and –

And then he was releasing Heero's hand, letting him walk away from his desk and out the door without another word as he stared after him, already looking forward to tomorrow and seeing him again despite knowing absolutely nothing about him.

"So what did you think?" Susan teased, knowing eyes appraising him with obvious amusement. "Soul mates?"

"Jesus! No, Susan, just – no," Duo replied hastily, rolling his eyes at such a ridiculous statement. As if you could know something like that from one meeting anyway.

Yet there was something...

And as his eyes wandered back to the door, he found that even if they weren't 'soul mates,' he was still looking forward to getting to know Heero better.


	14. 188 Days Since Last Communication

Here we go – we've reached the end again! I really don't know when I'll be posting much of anything for a while. I am expecting again with what has turned into a very difficult pregnancy and so I haven't been doing much writing. But I have had some ideas for one shots in this world as I didn't get to explain as much as I had wanted to – so this may not be the last of this story. ;-P Thank you so much for all of your readership and I hope that you have enjoyed. =)

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**188 Days Since Last Communication**

It felt like a dream that he would be pulled from the first second he dared to hope it was real when he finally made it back to their apartment door, the building still standing, waiting for him – just as it always had been. He caressed the numbers with his fingertips, thinking of all he had done to be here at this moment. LA had been bombed too, the past few weeks slow going as he managed his way through the rubble, unable to locate supplies, hunger gnawing in his gut until it became a dull ache but it hardly mattered. He was home.

Heero didn't expect Duo to be there – just assumed there would be some note left to instruct him of where he had to go to find him. Despite the time that had passed, the city still smelled of death and the reminder would be unbearable to Duo. He knew that. But still it almost didn't matter, the thought of it still being days before he would see Duo again, because he was here. Despite the odds, he'd made it home.

When he turned the handle he found that the door was locked and a quick smile flickered across his lips, made painful as they split against the uncommon action, and he bent down slowly and carefully to grab the key from under the mat.

The apartment was exactly as he had left it – no, better than he had left it. Not a single thing was out of place. No dishes in the sink, no wrappers on the counter, no muddy shoes tracked through the foyer. It added to the surreal, dream-like feeling of being back with everything so perfect and for a moment he hesitated. It didn't feel right, it didn't feel like it was _his_ – not any more.

Memories crowded his brain until he was leaning heavily into the doorframe, breathing hard and feeling faint – every moment of happiness, every argument, every place they'd fucked, dinners and parties and daily rituals overwhelming him now that he was here again, here where all of those things had happened not all that long ago. He felt like a man out of time, lost, that this wasn't his home anymore, not after everything he'd been through to get back here. This was the home of another man, a younger man, a man who still had optimism and hope, a man who hadn't seen the things he'd seen, hadn't selfishly dug the keys off of dead men's rotting corpses and eaten greedily from cans busted open against tile flooring.

Heero's steps were shaky as he wandered through the apartment, halting and heavy, memories assaulting him with each forward movement. Screwing on the floor their first night here, up against the counter once when Duo ambushed him in the middle of the night after he got up to get a glass of water, so many times on the couch... The way he would come home to find Duo absorbed in a book or political talk show or video game when he worked late and how he would lean over the back of the couch, wrap his arms around Duo's neck, and Duo would tilt his head up into his lips, reaching back to slide his fingers through the shorter hair at the nape of his neck. The way he would kiss Duo's forehead every morning and Duo would mumble his typical "love you" back with eyes still closed, but then sometimes he'd only make it halfway down the hall before Duo was running after him, embracing him from behind, arms tight around his waist, lips on the back of his neck, making it nearly impossible to leave.

When he finally made his way into the bathroom, he noted how Duo had left a few gallon jugs of water, a still packaged toothbrush, toothpaste, soap, and clean towels on the counter for him. And then Heero looked in the mirror, really looked, for the first time in months.

His skin was dark with tan and dirt, his hair greasy and matted, beard long and unkempt, eyes sunken, face thin and gaunt like the rest of his body and he dropped his eyes to the counter, opening a drawer, looking for a razor, scissors, something. With trembling hands he trimmed back his beard, poured water in the sink and scrubbed his hair out with soap, combed it out and tied it back with one of Duo's hair ties, washed his face and arms until he felt somewhat presentable. But no amount of scrubbing could lessen the horror he felt when his eyes met his reflection and in the back of his mind he couldn't shut up the little voice telling him that Duo would never want him like this.

Once he'd finished he wandered back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed as maintaining control of his emotions and his memories became difficult in this room, on this bed, where they had shared so much. But he noticed the way the sheets were rumpled as though they had been laid on recently, the only thing out of place, and he rested his hand on what was once his pillow and wondered if Duo had lay there and thought about him, where he was, what he was doing – the way he had thought of Duo every single day.

When he noticed the crack in the nightstand drawer he pulled it open, seeing the unfamiliar notebook within and taking it out. Immediately he wanted to cry but tears were impossible and instead he dragged in ragged breaths, hardly able to read Duo's scrawling penmanship through the shaking of his arms.

Duo had documented so much over the time they were apart – entries written as though letters to him were penned nearly every day in the beginning, the abject misery and sorrow of his tone making Heero's chest ache, knowing intimately how hard it was to be apart from him. He described terrible things – dumping the dead bodies of their neighbors out windows, watching from their balcony as animals picked the bones clean, the way he knew in that moment, four weeks in, as he stared from the top of their apartment building out across the ruins of Los Angeles with the sun rising slowly behind him that he was completely, totally alone.

But then something changed and the entries weren't so devastated, nor were they as frequent. Duo had found someone else who had managed to survive, a woman named Hilde, and then he began detailing how he started working to turn the Gillette Mansion into a home for them. As fascinating as the stories of their post-apocalyptic lives were, at times Heero found it difficult to read, the occasional statement or question clearly glossing over Duo's real concern – that Heero wasn't ever coming back.

"I wonder if you're thinking about me right now," he would write – or worse, "I can't imagine what it would be like to see you again." The fact that Duo still thought of him, the constant repeated mantra of "I miss you" more than he had hoped for and yet he knew he was nothing like Duo would remember, just a wraith of the man that Duo had fallen in love with.

So when he heard his name called cautiously from the living room he froze, fingers digging into the pages, terrified to see the man he still loved so dearly, afraid that time had changed him too much, that the illusion would be shattered and Duo would be disappointed by him, disgusted, even – that everything he fought for over the past six months would have been a lie. But then... Then it was Duo's voice, saying his name again, and all he wanted was to see him, hold him in his arms one last time, smell his skin pressed up against his nose and feel his body warm under his hands and just – just know that they had both made it and that they were both safe. That all of his strife, all of his hard work, everything he did, paid off in the end.

He heard Duo's footsteps approaching and he stood, walking to the door to meet him in the hallway and they both paused when they caught sight of one another, as if neither could believe what was happening, as if the dream had manifested into some kind of nightmare and he would blink and Duo would be gone, just a figment of his imagination. He just looked so much like Heero had remembered – a little thinner, less muscle, but he clearly ate well and strangely it was that which Heero was most gratefully for – that Duo hadn't had to suffer the way he did. But it also made him feel strange and cautious and he waited for Duo to turn around, to walk away, to decide the fantasy of Heero's return was better than the reality – and honestly, Heero wouldn't blame him if he did.

But he didn't. Instead, Heero barely had time to register what was happening as Duo barrelled into him, throwing his arms around him and dragging them both to the floor under his weight as his knees gave out. Heero registered that Duo was crying, could hear the sobs as though from a distance and he felt the wetness on his neck as though it weren't happening to him, the blood rushing in his ears, heart pounding so loud he could hardly hear anything else, feeling dizzy and light-headed and he wanted to cry to but he couldn't. He just trembled in Duo's arms, pressed his nose against his neck and breathed in the smell of him, warm and soft and familiar.

"I thought I would never see you again," Duo managed, burying his fingers in his hair, in his shirt, determined not to let him go, holding him tight against his body and Heero opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out, his voice gone from lack of use and he felt his chest heave in a sob but there were no tears.

All he wanted was to show Duo something, say something, and he couldn't. He couldn't do anything but hold him back with weak, shaking limbs and feel Duo's body, real and tangible and here, now, with him.

"I tried to believe, you know, I tried not to let it get to me, but fuck, I'm sorry." Heero could barely understand him through the tears. "I'm sorry I doubted you. I never should've doubted you. I love you, I love you too much to have doubted you."

Heero swallowed hard as Duo peppered hasty kisses to his neck and jaw, whispering "I love you's" after each one making him feel weak, making him feel useless that he couldn't do anything but sit there and accept Duo's affection and he tried to speak once again. The soft sound he made was nothing, not even a word, nowhere near able to describe the depths of his emotion for Duo and yet Duo drew back, wiped his eyes on the back of his hands and held him at arm's length and looked him in the eye, patience written all over his face but Heero was heartbroken. He had nothing, no way to express the depths of his heart, tell Duo how he felt and he –

And then he remembered. He bit his cracked and broken bottom lip as he slid his hand in his pocket, the only offering he had to give – afraid of the rejection but afraid that if he didn't say it now, even without words, he might never get another chance and he – he couldn't bear the thought of never getting another chance. The poor little box, worn with dirt and hardship, no longer beautiful in any way, so representative of himself that Heero could hardly stand to look at it as he drew it out but it was all he had left – that box and a stupid hope that Duo might still say yes.

He held it out carefully, unable to meet Duo's eyes, just hoping that Duo could see beyond the harsh exterior to the sentiment inside, and when Duo realized what it was, tears began spilling renewed down his cheeks, an unmaintainable smile desperately trying to find purchase on his face as he gathered Heero back up in his arms, his name a sob caught in Duo's throat.

"It's like I told you, babe," Duo said, his voice cracking, his words so quiet muffled against his shoulder that Heero had to strain to hear them. "Even if there ain't a single person left on the planet but us – I'd choose you. Every fuckin' time."


End file.
